


Hindsight

by floorcoaster



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: DFW 2020 Challenge, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 167,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22486084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floorcoaster/pseuds/floorcoaster
Summary: It's a New Year and Hermione decides it's time to make some changes.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 363
Kudos: 594





	1. January

**Author's Note:**

> This story is being written for Dramione FanFiction Writers 2020 Challenge. I chose the prompt "New Years Resolutions." Each month a new chapter will be posted using a new prompt, given each month. I'm excited to be writing something! And I love a challenge, so this should be super fun. 
> 
> Beta thanks go to dormiensa and dreamsofdramione, who also helped with alpha stuff and is also just generally awesome. Super glad to have met you in this fandom! Beautiful graphic made by dreamsofdramione also!

**Saturday, 31 DECEMBER**

Hermione Granger was a planner. 

She liked color-coded schedules and cross-referenced tables and mile-long to-do lists. She liked multi-colored pens and ink, sticky-tabs, and three-ring binders. Since she could remember, she’d organized things—her books, her closet, her schedule—and with few exceptions, she’d managed to stick to her plans. One notable deviation being when she’d been unable to attend Hogwarts for her seventh year on schedule. Really, though, helping Harry to rid the world of the megalomaniac that was Voldemort had provided her with many opportunities she wouldn’t otherwise have had, so she didn’t consider it a setback. In many ways, it sped some things along, despite stalling some of her carefully laid educational plans. 

The war had been over for seven years, however, and most things were moving right on track. She had a job she (mostly) adored—working for the Department for the Regulation and Care of Magical Creatures—friends she loved, a prime studio flat in London overlooking the Thames, and her social calendar was always full. 

It was New Year’s Eve, and though she had a party to attend, she was still at her desk at the Ministry at quarter past nine. The following day was a holiday, but she’d wanted to peek ahead at what would be facing her once she returned to work. 

There must have been some part of her unconscious brain that had avoided looking past individual dates to see the full month all at once. It was very full. In fact, as she glanced at her calendar for January, she saw a lot of things written into the boxes. Upon much closer inspection, she was struck with the idea that it might be _too_ full. She frowned. Every weekend in January was packed: outings with friends, Ministry events, charity functions, and an assortment of odds and ends that would leave her with no time for herself. Most nights of the week she had some sort of commitment as well, between dinners with friends, committee meetings, and various interest groups she was part of—her monthly book club, for example. 

She flipped back through her planner, going over the months that had passed, growing more dismayed by the page at how full her life had been. 

There was no problem with all of the things she’d done, per se; the problem was that she felt drained—completely and utterly empty. The thought of what January held for her made her want to crawl under a rock and sleep for a month, to hide from the world and everybody in it. She shouldn’t be dreading a New Year’s Eve party at the Leaky Cauldron, hosted by Neville and Hannah, surrounded by two hundred of her closest friends, right? 

A shadow fell across her desk and Hermione started.

“Hey, Hermione.” Harry leaned against her desk, his outer cloak draped over one arm. 

She let out a shaky breath, forcing herself to smile at him. “Hi, Harry.” She set her calendar down but left it open, her eyes darting to it every few seconds. 

“You going to be ready for tonight?” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “It’s supposed to be even bigger than last year.”

“Yes,” she replied, though she had a sudden desire to skip it. 

“I’ll see you there.” He wrapped his cloak around his shoulders. “Don’t be here too late, I know you get caught up in what you’re doing.” He gave her a lopsided, very Harry grin. She kept the smile plastered on her face, fighting the urge to rip up the calendar right then and there. “Oh,” he continued after taking a step toward the door. “Draco _is_ coming after all. He wasn’t sure if his mother wanted him home, but he said she’s decided last minute to join a cousin in France.”

Hermione nodded automatically, the kernel of a plan forming in her mind. She waved absently to Harry as he left and focused once more on her calendar. As she flipped through the pages of her planner, she saw that February was likewise full, as was March. April, May, and June had things already penciled in, and she had no doubt that they would follow suit as the year wore on. 

So many things she had scheduled were good things; some were fantastic things. Ginny’s baby shower in March she absolutely wouldn’t miss for the world. The Quidditch match in May with her friends was a given, too, but with everything before her, there was little to no time for herself—to say nothing of a relationship. And as good as everything was—her job, her friends, her life—there was still something missing. She’d been feeling it for a while, an ache whenever she was with her friends who were married or in a serious relationship. Even her friends who were busy dating still seemed to have a glow about them that she knew she was lacking. 

Hermione sighed heavily. She hadn’t dated anyone seriously since her relationship with Ron had ended five years before. She’d gone on dates, of course, and she had a few men she called if she needed a date for an event, but there had been nothing substantial. How could she possibly have time for something with her schedule? If she went on a date in early January, the next possible opening would be… late March. How could she hope to have any kind of relationship that way?

And she wanted a relationship. She wanted to fall in love. She’d always meant to do it, but in all her prioritizing, it kept getting pushed down. Other things crept in or barged in and she had never made time for it. Now, five years after her last serious boyfriend, there was simply no room. 

Her heart started pounding as she stared hard at January for a few more moments. It would be difficult; she hated disappointing people. But whenever she started wavering, thinking she could get by only cancelling a few things, she felt the dread creep in. No; she needed to make a clean cut, leaving only those things that she knew would bring her the most joy. Then, she nodded resolutely to herself and started packing up her things. 

Thus far, she hadn’t met the man of her dreams at Ministry events, committee meetings, or charity dinners. There was nothing for it; something had to shift. She would attend this last party of the year with Harry and Ron and then she would make some changes.

****

ooo

**Friday, 6 JANUARY**

Within a week, Hermione had significantly cut down her commitments over the coming few months. There was mostly white space in her calendar now, punctuated with a few necessary appointments, and it truly made her smile. There was one event, however, that she was on the fence about. Draco Malfoy had invited her to join him for a charity fundraiser being hosted by the foundation he and his mother had started shortly after their post-war trials concluded. 

Narcissa had swept onto the recovery scene, reminding Hermione of Florence Nightingale in the way she seemed to be everywhere, helping anyone who would let her. She’d volunteered at St. Mungo’s, given her time to rebuilding Hogwarts, sent Galleon after Galleon to worthy causes, including funding scholarships for children who’d lost a parent—or two—in the war. She’d joined many recovery groups, but after a few short months decided that she’d rather run things herself, and she had become the foremost advocate for change amongst the Pureblood Elite. 

Hermione had been skeptical at first, then suspicious, then flabbergasted, then amazed by the woman’s work. When Narcissa had reached out to her, very publicly and sincerely, to apologize and attempt to make amends, Hermione had welcomed the gesture. Narcissa had tried to give something to Hermione, but she had insisted that Narcissa donate her resources elsewhere, and the older witch had acquiesced, donating to Hermione’s cause of choice. 

It had been the start of a surprising friendship between them. 

Now the Malfoy Foundation was preparing to host a fundraiser for research into the long-term effects of Cruciatus exposure. Hermione naturally had strong feelings about the cause, but it was scheduled to take place the same weekend as two other events she simply couldn’t get out of, so she was on her way to the office Draco shared with Harry. She hoped he would take it well and not be too put out with the late notice.

When she arrived, she was relieved to find Draco alone. He was bent over his desk, fringe hanging down as he wrote furiously on what looked to her like a case report. She rapped sharply on the doorframe. “I’m so sorry to interrupt,” she said, approaching his desk. 

He smiled and set the report aside, waving to indicate that she should sit, which she did. “It’s no interruption. What’s on your mind?”

Hermione bit her lip and hesitated. Now that she was here, sitting in front of him, his expression one of patient anticipation, she wavered. Should she cancel on him? She knew he’d have no trouble finding someone to join him. Narcissa would probably be disappointed, but she couldn’t get out of a formal dinner Friday night for her boss’ birthday, and she had already committed to watching Harry and Ginny’s two-year-old Saturday morning while they went out on their first date in over four months. The fundraiser was Saturday night, and she knew she’d be exhausted after taking care of a toddler all morning. 

“Hermione?” Draco frowned slightly. “Is everything all right?”

“Oh, yes,” she said quickly, deciding to trust the decision she’d already made. “I’m sorry. I wanted to speak with you about the fundraiser coming up in a few weeks.”

Draco nodded, folded his arms over his chest, and sat back in his chair. “I’m listening.”

She clasped her hands in her lap and smiled half-heartedly. “Well, it’s just that, I’ve decided to lighten my schedule. You could call it a New Year’s Resolution of sorts. I was beginning to dread even looking at my calendar, it was so full, and I’ve been working to trim as many things as possible. And the weekend of the fundraiser, I’ve got two other things I simply can’t cancel. As much as I want to be there, I need you to find someone else to go with you.” She rushed out the last part, hoping that he wouldn’t be too put out with her for not giving him more notice. The fundraiser was only three weeks away. 

He stared at her, expression impassive, for what felt like an eternity. “You… want me to… find someone else?”

Hermione nodded. “I know you asked me as a favor to your mother, but I’ve just sent her an owl to let her know I can’t make it. Honestly, it’s not like anybody will miss me. My name isn’t on the program, I’m not a huge draw for any of the donors who will be in attendance. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding another escort.”

Draco frowned slightly, his eyes rapidly searching hers. “I… Did I do something? Or, did someone say something…” He trailed off, obviously confused. 

“Oh! No, certainly not. It’s really exactly as I said. I found myself quite overscheduled and needed to make some changes. You should see what my calendar looked like before. It was practically choking to death.” She tried to smile at him, but his intense expression was unsettling. 

“And you believe I can simply… find someone to take your place.” 

At this, she almost laughed. “Of course! You’re… you know, _you_. Wizarding England’s Most Eligible Bachelor, three years running, not that anyone’s counting. If you can’t find a woman to stand beside you at this prestigious event, then there’s no hope for any of us!”

Draco continued to stare at her, and she couldn’t figure out why. Was he upset? Was he already mentally going through his list of contacts, making a top three selection of whom he might ask? Was he thinking about what he would eat for lunch? 

Finally, he spoke after a sigh. “Did it ever occur to you that I had wanted you, specifically, to join me?”

Hermione blinked, her mind flailing to find the most logical conclusion. She laughed lightly. “Well, I know I’m usually at the events, but I’ve helped your mother as much as possible already. I don’t have any big roles for this event, so considering the timing with the other things that weekend… it made the most sense to me. I know having me there would help your mother and the fundraising efforts, and I know how much this means to her, and by extension, what it means to you as well. I’m sure there will be no trouble achieving your goals for the evening. The work Narcissa is doing is the true hero of the event. You shouldn’t need _my_ name or presence to raise funds. If anything, my absence might help things, if you know what I mean.” She grinned, hoping to lighten the mood, but the furrow of his brow only deepened. 

He sighed and sat up, clasping his hands and leaning on his desk. “I see. Thank you.” With barely a glance in her direction, he pulled the report he’d been working on when she’d arrived back in front of him, sat up straight, and dipped his quill in the nearest ink well. 

Hermione felt oddly dismissed. “I… Well, I know what a difficulty this could be. I am very sorry to leave you without a date on such short notice.”

Without lifting his eyes from his paper, he said, “As you yourself mentioned, only moments ago, I should have no trouble finding a replacement. There’s no need for you to concern yourself further.”

She waited, watching the quill scratch across the surface of the parchment. She typically loved the sound; it was usually rougher than paper, especially Ministry-issued parchment, and she found the rough pull of the metal tip over its surface soothing. Only now, it felt harsh. 

The quill paused. “Was there something else?” 

Hermione stood, feeling troubled. “Actually, Draco, there is.” Once he’d looked up at her, his expression blank, she said, before she could think or talk herself out of it, “Let me know if you can’t find someone. It’s rather short notice for an event like this, after all, and I have a dress already, so if nothing works out, do let me know. I’d be happy to join you.”

His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Once she was safely back in her own office, Hermione let out a shaky breath. The whole interaction with Draco had been… odd. She was thankful Harry hadn’t been there; she couldn’t imagine having that conversation in front of him, even though he knew all about her efforts to scale back her commitments. On the other hand, if he’d been there, it might have gone more smoothly. 

She shook it off, determined not to think about anything but her current assignment for the rest of the day. 

****

ooo

Saturday, 28 JANUARY

Hermione scanned the cafeteria, looking for Harry. It was their tradition: every Friday, when he wasn’t on assignment, they had lunch together. The venue often changed. Some days they went out, sometimes they packed lunches, others they ate in the cafeteria. They usually chose this option when they were both busy and didn’t have a lot of time, but no matter what, they ate together, even if they only had fifteen minutes to spare.

He waved from a large table in the corner where he was sandwiched between two other groups of people. Hermione squeezed into the seat across from him, amused at their situation. She cast a quick _Muffliato_ so that they could talk without worrying about being overheard, despite their cramped quarters. 

“Busy day?” Harry asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.

Hermione nodded. “Very. I’ll be lucky to get out of here in time to get ready for tonight.”

Harry frowned. “What’s tonight again?”

“I have to go to dinner with my department. It’s Bottleby’s birthday, remember? He likes to make a big deal out of it.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, really. At some point, you just shouldn’t require everyone around you to fawn over the reality that you’ve lived another year. I would normally use work as an excuse to be late or miss altogether, but I can’t exactly do that when it’s in honor of the boss, can I?” She shook her head. “How about you? How was your week?”

“Good. Slow, but that’s all right. Draco and I had some paperwork to catch up on. He can’t stand to let something sit too long.” Harry shrugged. “I can’t really complain. We have the best completion rate of any partnership in the department.”

Hermione—and their other friends—had been stunned to learn that Draco Malfoy had not only completed his N.E.W.T.s, attended Auror training, and worked for the Ministry, but he had also achieved near perfect scores on the exams, finished top of his Auror recruiting class, and had been specifically requested by Harry for a partner. The two had gone through something during Draco’s training, in which Harry had played a role, and they’d bonded quickly. 

Slowly, in the three years since becoming Harry’s partner, Draco had become part of their extended friend group. He wasn’t always present, he rarely went to The Burrow, and he was often reserved, but his presence wasn’t awkward. He fit in well enough whenever he was around. Hermione had enjoyed a handful of deep conversations with him over the years, and she had gotten to know him separately through her friendship with his mother. However, they rarely interacted whenever she was at his childhood home, showing up only when duty required his presence for functions. 

Still, he always had a smile for her and something witty to say, and she considered him someone worth getting to know better. He, however, stayed rather closed off and didn’t seem interested in letting anyone in. 

“Remember that case about a year ago? The Jabberknoll?” Harry’s eyes twinkled. ”The hours of paperwork on that one sent Draco into a snit.” 

Hermione smiled. “How could I forget?”

Harry chuckled at the memory. “We show up to that warehouse and it sounds like someone is being murdered or tortured or both. Draco and I draw our wands, trying to hold you back.”

“But I knew the sound was that of the Jabberknoll, a bird about to die and expelling its death-knell. You wouldn’t listen when I insisted it was harmless.”

“In the end, we barely caught the bloke illegally exporting the birds because you and Draco got into such a fabulous row about it.” Harry pointed his fork at her. “He wasn’t wrong, you know.”

Hermione huffed. “He wasn’t _right_ , either, Harry. I knew what I was talking about. It _was_ birds screaming.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t change the fact that, to begin with, there were still dangerous people about, as we were after smugglers who had been known to be violent, and second, it is Ministry protocol that whenever there’s cooperation between departments—”

“I know, I know,” she interrupted impatiently. “The Aurors are responsible for securing the scene before other agencies can move in. But Harry...” She fixed him with her most penetrating stare. “You know that I can handle myself.”

“Hermione.” His tone was patient and tentative, as though he was afraid of poking the beast. “I know. You know I know. Draco knows. The whole bloody world knows, but things happen. And if something happens to you when we don’t follow protocol, everybody loses.”

Hermione opened her mouth to speak again but then shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for us to hash this out again. I promise I know. And I respect you and I understand why the rules are in place.”

“Trust me,” he said, stabbing at his last green bean. “You are not the only person who gets frustrated with the red tape. I think one reason I still even have my job is because Draco is so adamant about following every rule to the letter. Probably has something to do with not wanting to risk another stint in Azkaban.”

“Oh! Speaking of your partner...” Hermione looked at him pointedly. “Who did he find to go with him tomorrow night?”

Harry gave her a funny look. “He isn’t going with anyone.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “What? I told him to tell me if he didn’t find somebody!”

“Did you expect him to simply comply?” Harry chuckled. “I thought you knew him better than _that_. You know he doesn’t make things easy. Especially on himself.” 

Hermione frowned. “Are you sure? Absolutely sure?”

Harry nodded. “I asked him.” 

“That’s so strange! I wonder why he didn’t contact me about it.” Hermione considered going straight up to his office.

“I don’t know, but I’ve got to run.” He gathered his trash onto his tray and stood. “Draco and I have a full afternoon of meetings. I almost wish something terrible would happen so we could get out of it.” He paused and gave her a lopsided grin. “Almost. Good lunch as always! See you!”

“Later.” She waved absently. As she finished her last few bites of lunch, she pondered the situation with Draco. She’d given him plenty of time, she’d told him she’d go if for some reason he couldn’t find someone… 

Well, she did have a dress already, so she would simply have to make it work. 

****

ooo

Sunday, 29 JANUARY

At half past six, Hermione knocked on the door of Draco’s flat. After a few long seconds, he opened it, a confused expression on his face. 

“Er, hi?” 

She smiled. “Hullo! Harry told me you didn’t have a date for tonight. I told you I’d go with you if you couldn’t find someone, so here I am.” She executed a very small, wobbly curtsey. “Ta-da.” When he only stared at her, she motioned toward his flat. “May I come in?”

“Oh. Right,” he mumbled, opening the door wide. 

She entered his flat for the first time in her life, trying to peek at everything without appearing too curious. Her gaze landed on him. He had on black trousers that fit just so, a perfectly crisp, white shirt with cufflinks, and it looked as though he’d been in the middle of putting on his tie. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

He rolled his eyes. “I was, you know, before you showed up. I’ll… just go and finish.”

Hermione nodded and watched him disappear into what she assumed was his bedroom. Once his door closed, she spun to examine the room more closely. It was warmer than she’d expected, instantly putting her at ease. A rich, yet comfortable looking leather chair sat near the fireplace, which was flanked by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. The chair looked well-worn, and beside it sat a small table that was piled with books. Another, lower table sat near the chair, and it was covered with what she guessed were case files and other papers related to work. Curiosity got the better of her, and she stepped closer to the nearest bookshelf. Her eyes flitted over the spines, and she was so engrossed that she didn’t notice him reenter the room until he cleared his throat. 

Hermione jumped at the sound, then laughed lightly at herself as she turned around. Draco had put on a suit jacket with dark lapels—she wasn’t sure if they were made from velvet or silk—and he had a heavy cloak in his hands that appeared to be lined with dark gray wool. Hermione blinked, struck with the fleeting thought that he looked… Well, he’d always been objectively pleasing to look at. Since the war, though, he’d somehow managed to not stand out in that way—at least in his day to day life. She’d seen him dressed up plenty of times at Malfoy Foundation functions, but this was the first time she’d really noticed how attractive he was.

“Shall we go?” she asked, avoiding eye contact. 

He sighed heavily, clasping the cloak at his collar. “Why are you here? And how do you know where I live?”

“Harry gave me your address. It was lucky I had lunch with him yesterday, because he was the one who told me you didn’t have anyone to go with tonight.” She rounded on him, eyes sparkling playfully. “Speaking of which, why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I wanted to respect your wishes to clear your schedule.” He took a handful of Floo powder and threw it into the fire. “Malfoy Manor! I knew you had a full weekend already.”

She joined him in front of the fire, watching his face closely. She could read nothing in his expression, but his words had been almost tender. “I appreciate that,” she said softly. “I really do.”

“After you,” he muttered, motioning toward the green flames. 

As soon as she stepped from the fireplace, she was dazzled by the sparkling beauty before her. She’d been in the Malfoy Traveling Room plenty of times, but Narcissa had decorated it to be especially welcoming for the event. Draco quickly appeared behind her and proffered his arm, which she accepted, allowing him to lead her through the Manor to the ballroom. 

He made small talk, asking about her week, but almost as soon as they entered the large room, Narcissa spotted her and hurried over. 

“Oh, Hermione! I’m so pleased you’re here! Draco had told me you wouldn’t be able to attend, so this is a lovely surprise.” She turned to her son. “Draco, be a dear and fetch me something to drink, would you?” She tucked Hermione’s arm in hers and pulled her to one side of the room. “There’s someone I’m dying for you to meet.”

****

ooo

Three hours and twenty-two minutes later, most of the guests had left and the last fifty or so were slowly making their way out. Narcissa took time to speak to each and every person as they left, and Hermione watched the woman, in awe of how graceful she remained after so many hours interacting with people. She was more than ready to be home in her pajamas with a good book.

Hermione had barely seen Draco after being whisked away by his mother. They’d shared one dance, but she had spent most of her evening schmoozing with as many wealthy donors as she could. She was talking to three ancient, rich white wizards, all able to donate thousands of Galleons to the Cruciatus research, and all hanging on every word she said. But she was tired of their flirtation, tired of the game, and very tired of her shoes.

“Pardon me,” came a voice beside her. She nearly melted with relief. “Would you excuse us?” Draco gently but firmly placed his hand on her arm. 

“Oh, of course, Mr. Malfoy, certainly,” said the nearest wizard, winking at Draco. 

His responding smile was tight as he tugged slightly on her elbow, and she followed gratefully. “Thank you. Your mother never ceases to amaze me. She manages all of this with such patience and grace.”

“A lifetime of training and lots of practice. Here, I brought you something to drink.” He handed her a flute of champagne. 

Hermione beamed at him and accepted the drink, taking a few sips before letting out a sigh. “I think tonight has gone very well. I’m sure your mother will be pleased.” 

Draco merely grunted and took a sip of his own drink. 

She watched a few more people leave. “Did you have a nice time?”

He shrugged. “Nice enough, I suppose. You know how these things are.”

“I know they aren’t your favorite way to pass the time. It is really so good of you to do it for your mother, though. She’s told me more times than I can count how much she appreciates you, how proud she is of you.” Hermione glanced at the shrinking crowd, all of them eager to speak with their hostess. “I, for one, am exhausted. I was able to interact with a good number of patrons, perhaps eighty percent of the people here. Of course, you know how much I value the work your mother wants to do, so it was easy to speak highly of her efforts and encourage people to be as generous as possible.”

Draco seemed slightly agitated. “You know, Hermione, I didn’t invite you—”

“There you are!” Pansy Parkinson whirled into view and put her hand on Hermione’s arm, a look of exasperated relief on her face. She was resplendent in a dark purple gown, her long, black hair done up, and held in place with diamond pins. “I’ve been hoping to catch you all evening! Although I’m glad that it’s quieter now. Listen, there’s something I need to ask you.”

“Pansy.” Hermione smiled warmly in greeting. “Of course, what is it?”

Pansy bit her lip and shuffled her feet, seeming suddenly unsure of herself. “Um, well, I was wondering if… You would mind terribly if… The thing is, I don’t want to upset you, but… What would you think about…” 

“What is it?” Hermione prompted kindly. 

“Well, it’s just that… You see, um, I’d like your permission to… to date… Ron.” She squinted as though expecting Hermione to literally explode.

It was a long few seconds before Pansy’s words really sunk in. “Ron? OH! Wow, really? I mean, of course it’s all right with me. Why wouldn’t it be? That’s… That’s wonderful. How did this happen?”

Pansy seemed unsure of what to think still. “Do you remember when we all went bowling eight months ago?”

Hermione gasped. “You’ve been seeing him for eight months?”

“Oh, no!” Pansy’s laugh sounded forced. “But that night, we ended up on the same lane, and we got to talking, and he’s actually really funny. I never knew that before. Over the last few months, we’ve talked more and more, but we’ve only been seeing each other for about a month.”

Hermione looked at Draco. “Did you know about this?”

He shrugged, kicking at something on the floor and meeting her gaze for a brief instant. 

“Of course you did. Did everybody know?”

“No! No, no, no!” Pansy insisted. “Only Draco. And, well—”

“Harry,” Hermione supplied. 

“And Harry.” Pansy sighed. “But that’s all. I swear.”

“And why didn’t you want to tell me?” Hermione was confused and still amazed at the news. 

“Ron and I wanted to be sure we had something before announcing it to everyone. We wanted to make sure it was all right with you. That it wouldn’t upset you.” 

Hermione was completely stunned. “Why on earth would you think it would upset me?”

Pansy hesitated and looked to Draco as though for help. “Well, you know, you haven’t really dated since you and Ron broke up.”

“I’ve dated!” Hermione protested, though it was only somewhat technically true. She’d gone on a handful of dates with a few men, but nothing more.

“Yes, of course,” Pansy said in a rush, “but not seriously. And we thought it best to wait before we told you.”

“Wait, we?” Hermione closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. “You mean, you and Ron? You’ve talked about this?”

“And… Harry.” Pansy’s expression was a cross between a smile and a grimace. 

When Hermione looked expectantly at Draco, he held up his hands. “I was not involved in this at all.”

Hermione’s hand covered her mouth, eyes flying open in sudden understanding. “Wait just a moment. Are you telling me… Does Ron still think I have feelings for him?”

When Pansy cringed and said nothing, Hermione took Draco’s drink out of his hand and downed it. “I needed that more than you.” She handed him the empty glass. “I cannot believe that my best friends…” She paused, balling her fists, taking a moment to collect herself. Then she turned to Pansy with as serene an expression as she could muster. “No, Pansy. I am not secretly pining for Ron, nor have I been for these last five years. I can’t believe—” 

“It wasn’t a serious thought,” Pansy rushed. “They just weren’t sure. Because, as I said, you haven’t dated much.”

“I’ve been a little busy.” Hermione gritted her teeth, feeling a tad self-conscious.

Pansy’s eyes widened. “Of course! Yes, you have nothing to prove or apologize for. Hermione, you are a force, and you can’t become one if you also have to worry about the ins and outs of dating.”

“Right.” Hermione felt unsettled. 

“Seriously, Hermione, you are amazing. The things you’ve accomplished since school are absolutely amazing.” She looked to Draco again for support, who remained silent. “Right, Draco?”

His expression told Hermione in no uncertain terms that he had no desire to be in the conversation. But he smiled at Hermione and then at Pansy and said, “I think she knows exactly what she’s done and that she doesn’t have to defend her choices.”

“Thank you.” Hermione placed her hand on his arm to stop him. “I appreciate it. You know, I think I’ll go and see if your mother needs any help. Excuse me.” Without waiting for a response, Hermione hurried across the large room. 

When she neared Narcissa, the other woman’s smile turned to concern as she took in Hermione’s appearance. “Are you all right, dear?”

“I’m not quite sure, really. I just found out that Harry and Ron both thought that I was carrying some sort of torch for Ron, and I… I think I need a moment.” 

“Of course, dear. Feel free to find a room where you can gather your thoughts. My home is yours.” Narcissa patted her arm in a motherly way. 

Hermione thanked her and headed for the door to the balcony. She took a few deep breaths and shivered slightly in the cold January air. Her thoughts were whirring. If she’d become a force, as Pansy had said, in part because she hadn’t dated since breaking up with Ron, then that was okay. She was happy with her life in many ways, but in the weeks since the New Year, she had found herself a little bit lonely. Her friends all thought she was struggling with her decision to end things with Ron, though she couldn’t understand how they could claim to know her and think that she would let her feelings simmer for years without doing or saying something about them. But, really, that was beside the point. 

The truth was that she didn’t know where to begin. Her calendar was now clear, but over the month of January, she’d discovered that most of her relationships were related to her career. The ones that weren’t were old friendships with her classmates from Hogwarts. The empty dates on the calendar had been lovely at first, full of books she’d been longing to read and a few things she’d been wanting to do. But she’d also found herself wistful. The quiet time, the unfilled days and nights, had forced her to confront herself, and she’d realized she was lonely. The blank spaces and the long stretches of time were starting to make her wish that she had someone to share in those empty hours. She’d even wondered if she had filled her time so much as a way of avoiding the fact that she was alone, that she had no one special to share her life with. Most of her friends had married or were dating, but she’d told herself that her career came first. And while she hadn’t reached her final goal yet, not by a long shot, she was well on her way. 

She wasn’t sure how, but just as she had dedicated herself to achieving her goals in her work life, she now resolved to put equal effort into her personal life. If her friends truly thought she still liked Ron, then chances were good that they weren’t the only ones. 

Hermione was going to put herself out there. She was going to… go places where she could meet someone. She would find out what those kinds of places were—pubs, shops, museums, whatever—and she would go to them. With a determined nod, she went back inside, found Narcissa, and threw herself into the clean-up.

Finally, after one in the morning, everything was finished. Hermione bid goodnight to Narcissa and allowed Draco to walk her to the Traveling Room. 

“Well, tonight was… enlightening.” She shook her head, throwing Floo powder into the flames. “I’m glad I decided to come after all. Thank you for inviting me to attend with you. It was nicer than coming alone.” She grinned. “And then letting me re-invite myself after canceling on you. It was awfully gracious of you.”

Draco nodded curtly, his hands in his pockets. He’d unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and his tie hung loosely around his neck. His hair looked as though he’d run his hands through it a few times that evening. He looked relaxed, delightfully disheveled, which she found more alluring than his stiff, formal manners at the start of the evening. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t think you were still hung up on Weasley.”

She smiled, then yawned. “Thank you, Draco. I still can’t believe my friends actually thought that was even a possibility.”

“They are idiots,” Draco remarked.

Hermione laughed. “Well, goodnight.” With a small wave, she stepped into the green flames that whisked her away to her flat.


	2. February

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is being written for Dramione FanFiction Writers 2020 Challenge. For February, I chose the following quote as my prompt:  
> "Don't breathe on that, it's expensive."
> 
> Each month a new chapter will be posted using a new prompt, given each month. I'm excited to be writing something! And I love a challenge, so this should be super fun.
> 
> Beta thanks go to dormiensa and dreamsofdramione, who also helped with alpha stuff, made the beautiful graphics for this story, and is also just generally awesome.
> 
>   
> 

**Wednesday, FEBRUARY 1**

Hermione loved flipping to a new page in her calendar. There was something remarkably satisfying about starting something new, even something as mundane as a new month. And this month, she was even more excited because she had taken such efforts in January to trim everything unnecessary from her schedule. 

She gazed upon the pristine, white expanse that was February.

And she smiled. 

It wasn’t completely without event, of course. The highlight of her month was on February eighteenth, when the Malfoy Foundation was sponsoring a Valentine’s Party for children experiencing long stays at St. Mungo’s. Narcissa had asked her to participate, and she had been delighted to accept. That had turned into Hermione largely planning the event, but only because Narcissa had loved all of her ideas for content and execution. She had a dinner scheduled to go over all the details one last time about a week before that, as well. 

February fourteenth seemed to spring off the page at her and Hermione frowned. Valentine’s Day. Despite her wish to get out and meet people, so far she hadn’t met with much success. The few attempts she’d made in January had been enjoyable but nothing had come of them. She had made a decision to try and say yes to any opportunity that came, and she was hopeful that the month famous for its holiday focused on love would lead to something. 

Maybe someone who’d been secretly pining for her would work up the nerve to ask her out for Valentine’s Day. 

Hermione actually laughed at the thought.

**ooo**

**Friday, FEBRUARY 3**

“Have you heard?”

Hermione looked up from the book she was reading and smiled as Harry sat down across from her. She hurriedly put a bookmark in place and stowed the novel in her bag. “Heard what?”

“George is running some kind of speed dating thing.” Harry grinned. “On Valentine’s Day.”

“Really?” Hermione’s brow furrowed as she took in the new information. “Speed dating? I’ve heard of that, haven’t I?”

Harry nodded. “Dean mentioned it a while back. He went to one with Seamus. They said it was fun. And, you know, George has more money than he knows what to do with, so he’s paying for most of it. It’ll be held at the hotel in Diagon Alley. Very posh, he says. The entrance fee is only seven Galleons.”

“Oh, is that all?” Hermione rolled her eyes but she was completely interested. “How does one procure admission?”

“Just ask George,” Harry said. “I’m sure he’ll let you in. He isn’t advertising, wants it to spread by word of mouth.” 

“Which means it will be full by Monday.” Hermione nodded her head once. “Good to know. What about you? What are your plans for Valentine’s Day?”

Harry shrugged. “Something with Ginny. Doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“Just because you’ve been together for years doesn’t mean you can’t put in some effort, Harry.” Hermione smiled gently. 

He waved his free hand in the air. “Oh, I know. I just didn’t think you’d be that interested in hearing about it. She’s almost twenty weeks pregnant. We’ll probably go to dinner and then she’ll fall asleep in the middle of a film.”

Hermione smiled, then bit her lip. She had yet to confront her friends about what she’d learned the previous weekend from Pansy, that they all seemed to think, in some way, at least, that she was still pining for Ron. Nothing could be further from the truth. When she didn’t say anything, Harry looked at her expectantly. 

“Harry, I need to ask you something.” She set down her fork and rested her elbows on the table. “Did you really think I still had feelings for Ron?” His face immediately went red and he glanced at his plate. “Because that’s utterly ridiculous. Do you think I would have just let my feelings simmer for all these years? That I wouldn’t have done something about it? You know I’m not the type to wait around and hem and haw and wish and hope. Please tell me you know this.”

He rubbed one hand on the back of his neck and chuckled nervously. “It’s… It’s not that I seriously thought you did, but I did wonder a time or two.” His gaze darted up to meet hers and his eyes went wide. “But, honestly, it wasn’t really a serious thought. Just… kind of a passing thing. Maybe you’d look at him a certain way, or sigh around him or something.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And that means I’m desperately in love with him?” 

“No. You’re right, of course. It was stupid to even consider it for an instant. It’s just… You haven’t dated anyone since him, really. And I suppose there’s part of me that still hopes you two will make things work…” He trailed off, again avoiding her gaze. 

Hermione snorted. “You want Ron and me to work out? Please just consider that for a moment.”

Harry seemed to do as she’d asked, then shuddered. “I guess, not really. I just think I liked the idea of it. Of you and Ron, me and Ginny. Us four. You know?”

“Yes, I do know, Harry. That’s why Ron and I were together for so long! We knew that everybody wanted it to work and so did we. But it completely failed. We didn’t speak to each other for months after, everybody felt the strain. It’s only been in the last two years that I feel like I have my friend back. There’s no way I would ever want to risk that. Not to mention, I don’t have feelings for him. At all. In any way. I hope we’re very clear on this.” 

Harry chuckled. “I think I’ve got it. And you’re right, of course. I don’t even think you’re good for each other. I just get caught up in the past sometimes.”

Hermione smiled and put a hand on his arm. “I know. I had those same dreams once. But that’s never happening.” She removed her hand and resumed eating. “And now he’s dating Pansy?”

“Yeah. And, Merlin, Hermione, he seems really happy. I never would have seen that coming, only—” He stopped abruptly, a horrified expression on his face for one brief moment before he quickly masked it. 

“Only what?” Hermione pressed. 

Harry dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “Only, you know, stranger things have happened. Draco mentioned something that kind of prepared me for it.”

“What did he say?” Hermione’s mind was spinning. She wanted as many details about Ron and Pansy as she could get, and this was her first real opportunity to ply someone for information. “It must have been about Pansy because they’re friends.”

“Yes, exactly!” Harry rushed out. 

“Did he know she had feelings for him?” 

Harry nodded. “He mentioned it after that bowling outing.”

Hermione was in full analysis mode. “Do you know any more? What happened? Who asked out whom?”

“Ron, actually. I know that might be surprising, but I suppose he wasn’t put in Gryffindor for nothing.” Harry shrugged. 

Hermione’s watch beeped. “Oh, bother. I’m sorry, Harry, I have to run. My weekly department meeting had to be moved up half an hour because Simon is leaving early.” She was annoyed that she didn’t get to find out more about Ron and Pansy. 

“No worries! Will we be seeing you this weekend?” Harry knew how hard she had worked to clear her calendar and give herself some time and space in her life, and he respected her decision. 

“I’m not sure. There’s an exhibit opening at that new art gallery in Hogsmeade tomorrow night. I think I’d like to go.” The exhibit showcased photos taken the first few days after the end of the war and would feature artwork by some of her fellow students. 

Harry smiled. “That sounds great. And, you know, if you find yourself with a lot of time and nothing to do, you could always stop by. I know it’s only been a little over a month, but we kind of miss you.”

“Oh, Harry. Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“See you, Hermione!”

**ooo**

**Tuesday, FEBRUARY 14**

“This was a terrible idea.”

Ginny tutted and continued applying the finishing touches to Hermione’s look. “You look amazing. But be still.”

Hermione fought the urge to huff dramatically. That would only annoy her fiery friend even more. “It doesn’t matter how I look, does it? This is speed dating. I’ll be sitting the entire night. I could wear baggy sweatpants and nobody would be the wiser.”

The frown Ginny gave her was slightly frightening. “And waste all the time I spent altering this dress? I think not. You’ll turn heads even though you’ll be seated.”

Hermione bit her lip and tried not to fidget. 

“There.” Ginny capped the mascara and stepped back, examining her with a critical eye. “You’re done. Now, spin.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and spun, stopping so that she could see herself in the mirror. Ginny had done a marvelous job. She wore a purple, square-neck empire dress with a layer of see-through material over satin. It was lovely and even laced up in the back, though nobody would observe that detail due to the nature of the event. She felt pretty, perfect for a casual but hopefully fun and productive evening. George had said there would be thirty single men present, so surely she might find some kind of connection with at least one of them. 

Ginny handed Hermione a light cardigan. “You need one more thing.” She went to rummage through Hermione’s jewelry box, then held out a necklace Hermione’s mother had given her. “Here. This.” 

Obediently, Hermione fastened the chain around her neck and smiled. It was a simple pearl necklace, but it had been given to her after she’d recovered her parents in Australia. They’d decided to spend a few months traveling, and they’d seen it at a little shop in Adelaide. 

“Is Luna meeting you there?” 

“Yes, we’re meeting there.” Hermione picked up her purse and gave Ginny a hug. “Thank you so much.”

“Have a great time!” Ginny gave her friend a wink. “I hope you meet someone amazing. No one deserves it more than you!”

Five minutes later, Hermione was presenting her ticket to a man dressed in tuxedo robes. He handed her a number—sixteen—and directed her down a hallway and through a door, where Hermione found the rest of the women milling around. 

Luna was one of them, and she smiled dreamily when she saw her friend. Hermione shook her head at the way Luna seemed to float across the room. “Hullo, Hermione. Thank you for inviting me. I’m already having a lovely time.”

“I’m glad.” Hermione spotted a table with refreshments. “Want some water? Or something stronger?”

Luna nodded. “Definitely something stronger.” They each ordered a glass of wine and while they waited, more women arrived. 

“Where are the men?” 

“They wouldn’t be in here with us, would they?” Luna smiled. 

Hermione chuckled. “Oh. Right. Of course. Do you know how this works?” 

“Not really, but I think we’ll find out soon.” She pointed to a door that was just opening on the opposite side of the room from where they’d entered. 

George Weasley sauntered in wearing bright red tuxedo robes, a matching top hat, and a cane with a jeweled heart on the pommel. When he tapped the cane on the floor to call attention, festive bubbles came out of the topper. “Thank you all for coming! Here’s how tonight’s adventure will go.”

Hermione felt her stomach drop at the word ‘adventure.’ It hit her that she’d committed her entire evening to a speed dating event run by George Weasley. Surely this would be no ordinary event; surely he had a dozen surprises up his sleeves. Judging by the way he was dressed, they would be gaudy and loud and likely embarrassing. 

“In just a few moments, we’ll go through this door into the ballroom together. There are six tables set up with five pairs of seats at each table. You will all sit in a chair on one side of the table, where you will remain for the entire evening. Our lucky bachelors will move from seat to seat as the night progresses. You’ll have four minutes with each gentleman, and they will each have a number hung around their necks. If you feel a connection with someone tonight, after they leave your station, simply tap your wand on the corresponding number on the sheet of red parchment beside your plate. You should all have been given a number as well, and the gentleman will tap your number if he feels a connection with you, too. At the end of the evening, we’ll give you the contact information of anyone you shared a connection with.”

Luna squeezed Hermione’s hand, her eyes bright. 

“If at any point you want to end your session before the four minutes are over, for any reason, please send up red sparks.” George demonstrated. “We hope this won’t happen to anyone, but we can’t perfectly vet everyone who signed up. There will be waiters walking around with light snacks and drinks, so if you want something, please send up white sparks. Are there any questions?”

Nobody had any. The excitement and nervous energy were starting to bubble through everybody. 

George clapped. “All right! Please find a seat and the men will be in soon.” With that, he opened the door and motioned for them to enter. 

Hermione gasped. George’s ostentatious attire had fooled her; the ballroom wasn’t gaudy at all, it was breathtakingly beautiful. Warm lights shimmered everywhere, and the tables were covered in soft white tablecloths. White and blush pink flowers in silver vases were placed between every pair, and each place at the table had a plate of bone white china, a crystal goblet, and a cloth napkin. On each plate was the red parchment, numbered from thirty-one to sixty. 

Hermione and Luna sat down in the third row of tables. She claimed the end and watched as all the other women found seats. 

George went into another room connected to the main ballroom, and Hermione assumed he was going to talk to the men. After a few minutes, he returned and said, “Ladies, the men are about to come in. Whatever order they sit down in, that is the order they will stay in for the duration of this experience. You will have four minutes with each wizard, then a bell will sound, and they will have thirty seconds to move down the row. I have already told the gents that there will be no skipping about. If there are no questions at this time…” He trailed off, eyes darting around the room. When no one spoke, he clapped his hands together and rubbed them gleefully. “Excellent. Let's begin! Veronica, let them in!”

A woman in a glittering red dress whom Hermione hadn’t noticed before opened the door. Hermione couldn’t see any of the men in detail, as the light from the other room obscured her vision. She felt oddly giddy from the anticipation and smiled at Luna. 

Her friend’s eyes sparkled, and Hermione thought she looked beautiful. “Anybody you hope to see here tonight?” 

Hermione shook her head. “No one in particular comes to mind.”

Just then, a wizard sat down opposite her and flashed a wide grin. 

“Good luck,” she whispered to Luna, then turned her attention to the tall, dark, handsome man in front of her. She held out her hand. “Hi, I'm Hermione.”

He shook it, his grin infectious. “Gerrard. It's nice to meet you.”

The next hour was spent in rapid-fire conversation. She would introduce herself to one man, then they rushed to ask each other a couple of questions, and before she knew it, the bell would ring, signaling time for someone new. Hermione felt a little dizzy after a while. She wasn't really sure what she thought about the whole speed dating process. There had been one or two people she considered interesting, but she didn't feel that she’d had enough time to really decide. Maybe she was overthinking it. That would not surprise anybody who knew her, but she had hoped the nature of the event would help tamper that tendency. 

The bell rang and—Jim? She thought?—got up and went to sit across from Luna and somebody new came and sat down. Hermione turned to Luna and saw a questioning look on her friend’s face. She smiled, hoping to convey that she was fine, but she knew it didn’t quite come through. In truth, she was barely holding on and couldn’t wait for it to be over. 

Luna squeezed her hand, then her eyes widened when she saw who sat down across from Hermione. Slightly alarmed, Hermione released her hand and turned to see who had caused such a reaction from Luna. She was pleasantly surprised to see Draco sitting there. Hermione felt an immediate sense of relief and she gave him the biggest smile that she'd given anybody that night. 

“Draco! I had no idea you were coming to this!” 

“It was Blaise’s idea.” He shrugged, and she thought he looked a little uncomfortable, but she just assumed it was the nature of the event. He had never struck her as a very outgoing or chatty person. She imagined he might be having an even harder time loosening up than she was.

Hermione immediately sent up white sparks and ordered a glass of water. “What do you think?” she asked. “Isn't this bizarre?”

He nodded. “It's all right.” 

“Have you connected with anybody tonight?” She glanced around the room, as though she could guess from just looking at who he might have been interested in. Which was silly; all she could see was fancy updos and polished hairstyles of the women around her. 

He shook his head. “Not yet. But that’s not terribly surprising.” 

“Well, you certainly won't with that kind of attitude.” She smiled again. “It's really so good to see you here. We both get a little break, don’t we? I don't have to introduce myself and try to tell you everything about me in under four minutes. You aren’t going to get all tongue-tied just because it’s me.” Her smile dropped and her eyes went wide. “Oh! That sounds so arrogant. I’m sorry. I only meant half the men I’ve talked to can barely say three words to me once they recognize who I am. Some of them want to jump into a debate about something I’ve done or said. One bloke even had the nerve to tell me that England should sell off part of the protected pixie forest for a new Quidditch stadium. Can you imagine? I’ll stop before I get going again. Needless to say, he couldn’t wait to move on.” She took a sip of her water.

Draco chuckled, nervously tapping his wand on the plate in front of him. “Were they all equally abysmal? Have you connected with anyone?” Hermione noted that he wore the number forty-seven around his neck. 

“I've marked two numbers, but honestly, I don't even remember their names. Is that terrible?” She gave him a playful grimace. “Everything is a blur. I'm really not sure what I think about this. It’s fun, in a way, and definitely a quick way to meet people. I mean, tonight I'll have met thirty men! Well, twenty-nine, since I knew you already. Although, I think it encourages quick judgment of people, which I'm usually not in favor of. I suppose sometimes you can know right away if someone is wrong for you, but I think people are too quick to write someone off in general.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yes. Surely there’s someone in this room who interests you. We’ve been here over an hour!”

He eyed her skeptically, hesitantly, then leaned forward. “Well, the truth is—”

The bell rang just then and the sound of chairs scraping filled the room. Hermione smiled sympathetically, knowing this was one of many such interrupted conversations since the evening began. He seemed to hesitate, but when Hermione’s next date arrived, Draco sighed and stood. 

Hermione watched him take his seat opposite Luna, then turned her attention to the new man. The next four wizards went by in a blur. Hermione was about ready for the evening to end, but suddenly there was an odd murmuring that spread quickly through the room. She looked up in time to see Draco walking resolutely toward the door the men had come through. George hurried over to him, they exchanged a few words, and George nodded and backed away as Draco left.

Hermione and Luna exchanged a look, then they were swept back into the speed dating. 

When it was all over, Hermione had registered four of the wizards she’d talked with. All four of them had marked her as well, so she was given their names and Floo addresses. George had been adamant that the women would be the ones to initiate anything further, which she had appreciated. It was all so overwhelming and she wanted to take her time. After all, she had a wide open calendar and she wasn’t in a hurry. 

“I wonder why Draco left,” Luna mused as they gathered their things. 

Hermione bit her lip in thought. “I’m not sure this was his kind of thing. It really wasn’t mine, either, to tell you the truth.”

“Hmm. I think it was something else. I think he got what he came for.” 

“I don’t see how. George didn’t pass out any information until it was all over.” Hermione fastened her cloak and put on her gloves. “Fancy a hot chocolate?”

Luna smiled dreamily. “Oh, no. George asked me to join him after for a drink. We’re headed to the Leaky. I’m sure you’d be welcome to join us.”

“Oh! That’s surprising! No, you go have fun.” Hermione laughed lightly. “George, huh? Well, all right.”

“He’s really wonderful,” Luna remarked, her eyes on their host the whole time. 

Hermione bade her friend goodnight and stepped out onto the street. After a quick deliberation, she decided to go home. She had interacted at a surface level for over two hours and a long, hot bubble bath was exactly what she needed next.

**ooo**

**Saturday, FEBRUARY 18**

Hermione chose her outfit carefully. She wanted to be festive but not loud, classy but not somber. The Valentine’s party would be at St. Mungo’s, after all, for children suffering from various illnesses. She settled on a dark red, close-fitting jumper with a woven detail on the front and the lower part of the sleeves. Paired with a gray wool skirt with buttons down the front and black tights, her boots completed the look. 

She arrived at the hospital at half past twelve in the afternoon; the party was scheduled for two. She wanted to be completely available once the room opened up at one. There wasn’t a whole lot to do: put up decorations, set up tables, greet the entertainment, manage the food and gifts. Narcissa had hired a Magizoologist to come and bring her softest, tamest animals after Hermione told her how Muggles sometimes used animals to improve wellbeing in patients. The Magizoologist would talk about each animal and let the children interact with them and pet them. Hermione hadn’t handled that part of the preparations; Narcissa had already known someone, so she’d taken care of those details. 

There would be fancy treats for the children and their parents, plus a string quartet playing in the background. It would be the most dignified children’s party any hospital had ever seen. 

Hermione went straight to the information desk to confirm that the party would be held on the children’s floor, then made her way there. She had her clipboard and list of things to do in her bag and she was pulling it out as she neared the entrance to the multipurpose room. 

Narcissa was already there, directing workers to rearrange the room. She spun around when she heard the door close behind Hermione.

“Ah! Hermione, darling!” She swept across the room, her pale pink robes fluttering around her. She was truly breathtaking. Narcissa gently grasped Hermione’s arms and kissed her in the French style, on both cheeks. “I’m so glad you’re here. I can fully relax now.”

Hermione smiled. “I’m very excited about what we’ve planned for today.”

“Draco has just gone to walk the caterer in, and he promised me a cup of tea when he returned. Should I have him get one for you?” Narcissa readied her wand to send a Patronus to Draco. 

“Yes, thank you. Cream, no sugar, please.”

Narcissa nodded and a swan erupted from the end of her wand and went flying away. “Now, the entertainment hasn’t arrived yet, but she’s not due for another half hour. Why don’t I start on the décor and you can meet the caterer?”

“Of course. Where do you want the food?” Narcissa indicated two tables in front of the windows and Hermione saw tablecloths sitting on top of each one. “All right. I’m on it.”

Narcissa returned to her work and Hermione immediately started decorating the tables. With a quick spell, she removed the wrinkles in the tablecloths just as the doors opened and Draco walked in carrying two cups and leading a group of people pushing carts piled with food. Hermione should have guessed that there would be a disproportionate number of treats, but it seemed that one entire cart was dedicated to nothing but sweets. 

Draco met her gaze and motioned the cart-pushers toward her. Hermione nodded and confirmed that the food was, indeed, to go on the tables behind her, then she got out of the way. He delivered his mother’s tea first, then Hermione’s.

“Were you in charge of the menu?” Hermione chuckled as plate after plate of sugary delicacies was unloaded. 

Draco smiled and shook his head. “Mother wanted to be sure there was something for everybody. Her hope was that each child would find his or her favorite treat on these tables.”

Hermione didn’t try to fight her grin. “Your mother is amazing.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on her for just long enough to make her breath catch. Then he looked away, cleared his throat, and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ll just go see what else I can do.”

She watched him take two steps, then she turned to the food tables. Once the dishes were arranged, Narcissa came over to add flowers and fairy lights. 

Time flew, and before she knew it, the children were arriving. Hermione had seen the Magizoologist arrive, but she’d quickly been taken to a side room where she could settle in and unpack her magical creatures. She was first on the schedule, so when Narcissa stood up to welcome everyone, Hermione went to the side room. 

She knocked but entered without waiting for a response, and she was surprised to find Draco in the room, talking quietly with the first act. They both stopped speaking and looked at her, Draco with an odd expression, and the woman… She looked familiar, but Hermione couldn’t place her. “Hello. So sorry to give you such short notice, but you’re up in two minutes,” she said, shutting the door quickly. She allowed a brief instant of extreme wonder at why Draco had been in the room, then brushed the thought away and focused her attention on what Narcissa was saying. 

“We are so pleased to join in this day with you. If you need anything, please see myself or my Event Coordinator, Hermione Granger.” Hermione waved when the guests started looking around the room. “Without further ado, please welcome one of England’s brightest, freshest Magizoologists, Miss Astoria Greengrass!”

Ah, so that’s why she was familiar. She looked a lot like her older sister, Daphne, who’d been in Hermione’s year at Hogwarts. Astoria came out of the room holding a Niffler under each arm. All the kids ooh’d and ahh’d over the sight, and they crowded around the young woman as she sat on the floor to get closer to their level.

Hermione retreated to the refreshment table and removed her tea from where she’d hidden it underneath. She plucked a chocolate petit four off a plate and popped it into her mouth. No wonder Narcissa hadn’t needed Hermione to help with the entertainment. Astoria was likely an old family friend. And she was delightful; the children loved her, their parents loved her. Hermione found herself frowning at this and she couldn’t imagine why. 

Once her part was complete, Astoria packed her creatures away but stayed to answer questions. She walked around the room with a single Niffler and continued to interact with the guests. As Hermione surveyed the room, she noticed Draco in a corner, sitting at a table with a girl who looked to be about ten. They were both staring intently at the chessboard set up between them, and Hermione wondered how long they’d been playing. She watched the game for a few minutes and didn’t notice Narcissa approach. 

“What do you think?” 

Hermione jumped slightly, then chuckled at herself. “It’s going wonderfully, Narcissa. Everyone loves Astoria.”

Narcissa beamed. “They do, don’t they? She’s such a delightful young woman. I can’t say enough nice things about her.” Her gaze lingered on Astoria, then she searched the room, finally locating her son. “What is Draco doing? He should be mingling.” 

Hermione put a hand on Narcissa’s arm. “He is. In his own way. I suspect he’s been sitting there for half an hour.” She smiled as Draco dramatized his devastation at having his castle taken by the girl. She’d seen Draco serve beside his mother for years, but there was something about this moment that made her heart clench. Draco’s smile was the most genuine she could ever remember him wearing, and the girl laughed with delight at his antics. 

“Ah, here you are. Hermione; let me introduce you.” Hermione tore her gaze away from Draco and the girl to find Astoria beside Narcissa. “Hermione, meet Astoria Greengrass. Astoria, this is Hermione Granger.”

Astoria offered her hand. “It's nice to meet you. I've heard so much about you.”

Hermione's smile was strained; she had heard similar remarks many times and they still rankled. However, she knew Astoria didn’t mean anything by it. “The kids really seemed to enjoy your presentation.”

“I’m so glad you thought so! I love talking to children and introducing them to new animals and creatures. I think it helps reduce some of the anxiety people feel with magical creatures. If you do something like this another time, I would love to partner with you again, Mrs. Malfoy.”

“As would I.”Narcissa inclined her head. “Astoria, be a dear, see how much longer Draco will be.”

Astoria hurried over to where Draco was. Hermione watched her join his conversation with the young girl, and soon all three were smiling. 

Narcissa watched them as well. “Want to know something neither of them know? Well, it’s possible Astoria knows something, I suppose. She might have even requested it. Anyway, Astoria's father recently approached me about our families entering into a courtship arrangement for her and Draco.”

Something in Hermione's gut flopped uncomfortably. Some things about the wizarding world, especially the upper class, bothered her immensely. “I assume by courtship you mean some outdated exercise wherein families are heavily involved in their children’s love lives?”

Narcissa quirked a bemused smile. “Something like that. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that you would find the practice objectionable. Two families enter into negotiations for their children to court and then eventually wed. In extreme cases, the marriage is completely arranged and children have no say. But that isn’t done very often these days.” 

Hermione knew she had to choose her words carefully. Yes, she’d developed a very good relationship with Narcissa Malfoy, but there were certain things they rarely, if ever, spoke about: Draco, and most of the wizarding traditions steeped in pureblood supremacy. In one fell swoop, Narcissa had broached both topics at once. Hermione didn’t know how to respond. Her most basic feelings on the matter were that he should be allowed to choose whomever he wished and that arrangements of any kind were barbaric. “That’s some progress, I suppose. What did you say to him?”

Narcissa straightened her shoulders, even though she hadn’t been slouching in the slightest. “I told him I wasn’t the least bit interested in such an antiquated ritual.” 

Hermione exhaled in relief. “How very modern of you, Narcissa!”

“Oh, don’t laugh at me, Hermione!” But Narcissa was smiling mischievously. “You should have seen his face. I’m sure he felt certain that I, of all people, would surely hold to the traditions. I told him that if Astoria was interested in Draco, she was on her own.”

Hermione continued to watch Astoria, wondering if the young woman held any designs on him. Her actions around Draco could certainly convey that, but without knowing her better, Hermione couldn’t decide. “What would courtship involve?”

“There would be a formal announcement, and they would begin seeing each other. Everybody would know that they were no longer available. The families would define the length of the courtship and set a date by which the couple must decide whether or not to move forward.” She sighed. “A break very rarely occurs, simply because all parties involved usually stand to benefit from the arrangement. The children feel the pressure to please their parents and they’ve grown up knowing that an arrangement was likely in their future. Though there are occasional matches that don’t come to fruition, for the most part, things go off without a hitch.”

Astoria stood and began walking back towards them. Draco remained seated. There was something Hermione was very curious about. “What does Draco think?”

Narcissa shook her head. “We’ve never discussed it. But he’s never asked me to reach out to anyone on his behalf. Of course, I’m not sure he would even want to go the traditional route.”

There was no time for more questions, as Astoria reached them. “Draco asked me to inform you that, well, he would be finished when the game was over and would then resume his duties.” She seemed a bit embarrassed at having to relay the message, as though worried she would offend Narcissa.

The remainder of the time passed quickly. Astoria’s part was finished, but she stayed and talked with the families. The children ate, they made some Valentines for their loved ones, which Hermione assisted with, then the two hours were over. Once all of the children had left to return to their rooms, Hermione went to work cleaning up. Thankfully, resetting the room was much faster than setting it up, and in less than fifteen minutes, everything was done. All that remained was sweeping and mopping the floor, but the hospital was sending someone to complete those tasks. 

Hermione went in search of Narcissa to tell her things were basically finished. The last place she’d seen her was in the little side room where Astoria had stowed her creatures. As she neared the doorway, she heard Draco speaking, and something made her pause. 

“I saw Astoria off.” Draco’s voice was tight.

“Thank you, son.” 

“Some reporter covering the party was there and got a picture of us.” Draco didn't sound pleased. “No doubt the rumor mill is going to grind furiously.” 

Narcissa tutted. “Is that so terrible? Astoria is a lovely girl, after all. And you’ve managed to stay out of the gossip papers for so long. I’m sure the public will be thrilled with something to talk about.”

“I’ve taken great strides to be exempt from the speculation, as you know,” Draco replied. 

Hermione didn’t want to listen any longer so she knocked on the door frame as she entered. “Everything is finished, Narcissa. Would you like to examine the space?”

“That’s not necessary, dear. I trust you.” Narcissa smiled as she smoothed down the front of her dress and gathered her things. “I think today was a fabulous success, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes!” Hermione exclaimed. “I heard nothing but good things from the patients, their families, and even the staff.”

“I think we should do it again next year.” Narcissa put her hand on Draco’s arm. “Draco, be a darling and walk Hermione to the Apparition point. I need to speak with the Hospital’s Coordinator before I leave.”

After hearing what Draco had said about walking Astoria out, Hermione suspected he’d rather do just about anything but be seen by reporters again. “It’s quite all right, Narcissa. I know the way.”

Draco shrugged. “I’m going there anyway. I’ve a meeting in half an hour.”

“Oh. All right then.” She gathered her bag and cloak and joined him in the hallway. He wore a thin black cable knit jumper underneath a fitted camel-colored wool coat and his hands were shoved in the pockets of his denims. She desperately hoped there were no reporters still lurking because she felt very frumpy standing beside him. 

Draco motioned for them to start walking and the first few seconds were somewhat awkward. Then Hermione pushed all thoughts of courtship and reporters away and smiled. Draco was her friend and had been for over four years. “So, who won your chess game?”

He glanced at her, eyes shining, and smiled sheepishly.

“Did you let her win?” Hermione asked, surprised. One thing she knew about him was that he was very competitive. 

“Only just,” he admitted. “But yes. She’s quite good.” He sobered. “She told me she doesn’t have much else she can do, so she plays a lot of chess. I, um, well...” He stopped with a frown. Hermione waited for him to continue, but it seemed as though he wasn’t going to say more.

She nudged him with her elbow. “You, um, what?”

He looked at her and she could tell he was very reluctant to say anything, but he finally sighed. “I sort of challenged her to a rematch. Next week.”

Hermione’s heart squeezed pleasantly and she didn’t bother fighting a huge grin. “Draco! Why wouldn’t you want to tell me that?”

“I didn’t want it to be a thing.” He looked away, shrugging slightly. “But she was just the best kid, and she should be going to Hogwarts next year, but she said she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to. It’s hard for her to get around, and you know how difficult Hogwarts can be, even without any limitations. It got me thinking… but there’s nothing to tell yet.”

Her first instinct was to reach out and thread her arm through his, but his body language was screaming that he didn’t want her to make a big deal out of his act of kindness. Instead, she merely continued beaming at him. “I think it’s wonderful and I want to hear all about it. Whenever you’re ready, of course.” Then she nudged him again, this time with her shoulder. “Let me know if she beats you for real.”

Draco chuckled. “I will.”

They’d reached the door to the main lobby where the Apparition point was located. Hermione hesitated, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable being seen with her. He didn’t hesitate, however, opening the door for her to go through first. A quick glance revealed that the reporters had all left. “What does the rest of your day look like? Are you maintaining your goal of keeping a light schedule?”

“I am!” she replied enthusiastically. “It’s been really wonderful. I have found that by reducing my social load, I’ve been able to more thoroughly enjoy the things I’ve kept. Of course, it’s still early, and maybe I’ll get bored after a while. But if I do, I can just add things carefully. I’m sure I’ll miss seeing friends as much as I used to.” 

“And tonight?”

“Oh, right. I’m going to my parents’ house for dinner. I’ve been spending more time with them since lightening my schedule, and that’s been really good.”

Draco nodded. “Have a good evening, then.”

“Thanks! Have fun at your meeting.”

He rolled his eyes with a half-smile. “Right. Goodbye, Hermione.”

Hermione waved and watched him Disapparate.

**ooo**

**Sunday, FEBRUARY 26**

Hermione waved as Ginny approached Quality Quidditch Supplies, pulling her cloak around her a little tighter. 

“Do you know what this is about, then?” the other woman asked, tucking under the overhang to get out of the falling snow. 

“No clue.” Hermione shrugged. “Pansy didn’t say more to you?” 

Ginny shook her head. “Just that we’re to meet her here or suffer her wrath.”

“I’m so glad Ron’s dating someone who isn’t dramatic.” Hermione chuckled.

Just then, Pansy appeared in front of them. She wore a lovely red wool cloak and black boots. Her hair was pinned atop her head as though she were going to a ball and not shopping in Diagon Alley. “Good. You’re here.”

“You threatened bodily harm if we didn’t come,” Ginny remarked.

Pansy ignored her and pushed her way between them, opening the door and striding through it as though she owned the place. Hermione rolled her eyes and Ginny giggled, but they followed her. Pansy walked straight to the back counter. “I’d like to see what you have in your back room. I believe you’re expecting me.”

The wizard behind the counter stood a little straighter, eyeing Pansy critically, then nodded. “Right this way, Madam.”

Pansy peered over her shoulder and nodded, indicating that they should follow. 

“Back room?” Hermione asked. Ginny would know more about this than she would, having actually played Quidditch, but Ginny only shrugged.

They were led through a door at the back that looked seldom used. Once through, a staircase was revealed, and they followed the wizard up and through another door, this one richer in appearance and made of deep mahogany. 

Ginny gasped when the door closed behind them. They were in another showroom, but unlike the one on the floor below, this one was decorated in polished wood, gold trim, and luxurious velvet. Soft music played, candlelight flickered off crystal chandeliers, and staff stood along the wall with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres. On display were various racing brooms and high quality Quidditch gear. Ginny gingerly ran her finger along the length of the nearest broom, whispering, “Wow.” 

“Don’t breathe on that. It’s expensive.” Pansy had finished speaking with the wizard who’d brought them upstairs and had returned to where Hermione and Ginny were waiting without them noticing. “It costs more than a year’s salary at the Ministry. Anyway, thank you for coming. I need your help ever so much.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “You need _my_ help? In a Quidditch store?”

Pansy bit her lip, brow furrowing. “I need your help because you two know Ron better than anybody. Except maybe Harry, but I knew he’d be useless in here.”

Ginny chuckled. “You’re not wrong.”

“Anyway, it’s our three-month anniversary soon, and I want to get Ron something nice. So…” She motioned around the room. “Help?”

Ginny crossed her arms. “Three months? Pansy, three months is a box of candy. Not a…” She tried to find a price on something in the room but there were no tags to be found. “Well, nothing in here.”

Pansy huffed. “I don’t want to get him a broom. You’re right, they’re too much. But I wanted to get him something _nice_. And he loves Quidditch, so here we are.”

“I didn’t even know this room existed!” Ginny twirled to really take everything in. “It’s fabulous!”

“Do you think we can find something for Ron in here?” Pansy still seemed terribly worried. 

Hermione put a reassuring hand on her arm. “Pansy, I’m sure we can find something. What did you have in mind?”

Pansy flashed a grateful smile. “Honestly, they have a limited line of team gear, and he loves the Cannons, so maybe a shirt? Or a keychain?”

Ginny snorted. “You didn’t come up here to buy Ron a bloody keychain. Let’s find the team stuff though; something Cannons is a good idea.”

A small side room off the main showroom housed the collection of Quidditch team gear. Hermione squinted at the very orange corner where the Chudley Cannons merchandise was on display. Pansy wandered aimlessly, touching shirts, flipping through books, picking things up and putting them down without really seeing anything. Ginny was nowhere to be found, but Hermione suspected she was admiring the Harpies items.

“I should have brought Draco,” Pansy muttered dejectedly. Then she stopped, her expression morphing instantly into one of rabid curiosity. “You were at their Valentine’s party.” It wasn’t a question, but she paused as though she wanted an answer.

Hermione nodded. “Yes, of course. Narcissa and I worked on it together.”

“And Astoria was there as well. I remember seeing a picture of her with Draco from that day!” Pansy narrowed her eyes. “What happened? Are they together?”

The question caught her completely off guard. “Oh, um, I didn’t get that impression.” Naturally, she would never divulge what she had learned from Narcissa and from overhearing Draco’s conversation with his mother. Granted, she hadn’t heard much of that, but it was enough to get a picture of the state of his mind on the matter. 

Pansy searched her eyes, then seemed to relax. “Good. I mean, if he liked her, then fine. But she’s had her eye on him for years now. _Years_. And, I don’t know... That just seems a bit desperate. He’s had plenty of opportunities to pursue something with her if he wanted, but he hasn’t, so she should move on. Take the hint.” She resumed absently perusing the wares. “I’ve tried to tell her, but she just keeps hoping. I’ll bet she’s got that picture cut out and pinned on her wall.”

“What about this?” Ginny popped around the corner holding a case that contained a fluttering Snitch.

“Um, what is that? I mean, obviously I know it’s a Snitch.” Pansy pursed her lips. “Why is it in a box? And why would I get that for Ron?”

Ginny gave her a patient look. “Because this exact Snitch is the one from the championship game the last year that the Cannons won the League Cup. See this plaque?” Everyone crowded closer to read it.

_Chudley Cannons  
1892  
Defeated Wigtown Wanderers, 320-170_

Hermione laughed but Pansy squealed. “Ginny! That’s perfect!” Pansy gave her a quick hug and took the Snitch from Ginny. “He’ll love it. It’s just so dumb and useless but it’s his favorite team, and he literally mentioned that game to me the other day. I’m so glad I didn’t bring Draco. He’d have suggested something boring like a book.”

“Didn’t you just say you should have brought him?” Hermione asked, amused.

Pansy waved her away, her eyes on the Snitch. “Obviously, I was wrong. I’ll go buy this and then I’m treating you both to ice cream.”

Ten minutes later, they were all happily tucking into ice cream, sitting in a booth in Fortesque’s Parlor. Pansy had fawned over the gift for Ron for a solid seven minutes. 

When there was a lull in conversation, Ginny pointed her spoon at Hermione. “How was your date?”

Pansy's head whipped up faster than Ron attacked a buffet. “A date? You, Hermione?”

She started to speak but Ginny beat her to it. “Hermione went to a speed dating party on Valentine's Day. Did you hear about it? My brother George put it on. He said it was a load of fun and he even asked Luna out after.”

“She told me,” Hermione interjected. 

Pansy ignored Hermione’s comment. “Oh! Yes! Draco went, can you believe it? Did you see him there?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes, I saw him. He was one of the thirty men I interacted with .”

“Malfoy went?” Ginny's eyes were wide. “That's really surprising.” 

“Why?” Hermione asked, taking a bite of her butter pecan.

Ginny gave her an incredulous look. “Oh, no reason, except that he could probably have any witch in literally the whole world. Why in Merlin’s name would he want to go speed dating?”

“I can’t begin to speculate. We didn’t discuss it.”

“What did you talk about?” Pansy asked.

“I mainly complained about some of the men I’d already talked to. We discussed if we’d had connections with anyone. Nothing exciting.”

“You did _not_ talk about the other daters!” Pansy slapped her hand on the table. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

“I want to hear about her actual date.” Ginny punctuated the last word by stabbing her ice cream. “Not her boring conversation with Malfoy. The way it worked was, if Hermione felt a connection or wanted to spend more time with someone, and they felt the same way, George would give her the contact information. She had four matches and went out with one of them the other night.”

Hermione grimaced. “My date was… just okay. There won't be a repeat.”

Ginny made a face. “Boo. Why not?”

“He was just… really boring,” Hermione admitted. “We couldn't find much to talk about once we got through the usual ‘first date’ things like education, employment, and family. He doesn’t read much and I don’t watch a lot of films. He loves Quidditch and couldn’t care less about art. It was obvious pretty quickly that it wouldn’t last, but I don’t regret going.”

“She has three more,” Ginny told Pansy. 

“Oh? Is Draco one of them?”

Hermione gaped inelegantly at Pansy. Her brain didn't seem to want to work, and she certainly couldn’t understand why Pansy would ask such a question. 

“What?” Pansy asked. “He was there. You said you talked to him and I am assuming he had a number, right?”

She huffed. “Yes. But I—”

“And? Did you put him down on your list?” Pansy’s expression was one of expectation and disbelief.

Hermione’s head was spinning from the rapid-fire line of questioning. “Well, no! I mean, Draco is my friend!” 

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Oh, and nobody is allowed to date a friend.”

Hermione was simply aghast. “I... Well, I mean, of course they can. But Draco is just—”

“Witch Weekly's sexiest man in England three years running?” Ginny offered helpfully.

“I don't think of him like that,” Hermione said defensively.

Ginny shook her head with a laugh. “You are the only woman in the whole country then.” 

Pansy tutted. “Draco is like a brother to me, but even I can admit that he is nice to look at.”

“That man knows how to wear a pair of trousers.” Ginny and Pansy high-fived.

Hermione felt her face grow red and she shifted in her seat. “I mean, I'm not blind. But he's just... You know, he's Draco. We're friends. We do a lot of work together as well, actually, since I do a lot with his mother. And besides, even if I wanted to think about him in some other way, what would be the point?”

Pansy looked at her thoughtfully. “You don't think he would be interested in you?”

“I have truly never thought about it. I have never entered into any kind of contemplation about Draco as anything other than a friend. He hated me when we were kids, he wanted people like me dead, and I know that’s not how he feels now, but then I show up in his life as a surprising friend of his mother’s. He loves her, he works for her causes, he believes in them, and I’m just… there. Why would I start thinking of him differently?”

Pansy was unfazed. “I have long thought you two would make a good match. Draco just grumbles and glares at me when I mention it to him.”

“You know, I think you’re onto something,” Ginny remarked. “I don’t know Malfoy well, but from the little I do know… I can sort of see it.”

It felt like Hermione’s stomach fell into her feet. “Oh! Please say you're joking! You haven't really said that to him, have you?”

“Of course I have. But don't worry, he just ignores me and goes about his boring life. Maybe he met someone speed dating.”

Hermione frowned, grateful that the conversation had turned away from her and Draco. “I’m not sure. He left before it ended. Of course, George might have given his name to someone he connected with.”

“He did? He just left?” Pansy was surprised. “Why?”

“I don't know. He got to the end of the row and just… walked out. I didn't think to ask him about it.” She remembered Luna had said he’d gotten what he wanted out of it, whatever that meant.

Pansy chuckled. “Honestly, I am surprised he lasted five minutes. I was shocked when he told me he was going. But, hey, he needs to meet someone, so I encouraged him. Hopefully it worked out for him.”

Hermione glanced at Ginny to see her friend giving her a very strange look. But Hermione couldn’t dwell on it because she couldn’t think about Draco in any kind of way. He felt safe because he was off limits. Not even off limits, but completely in another realm of limits. There didn’t even need to be formal limits because the very idea was preposterous. The _thought_ of the idea was ludicrous. She had three more dates to schedule with men she was excited to get to know better, and that was what she would be focusing on. Not some impossible nothing with the least likely man in all of wizarding England to look her way.

**ooo**


	3. March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REMINDER: This story is being written for Dramione FanFiction Writers 2020 Challenge. For March, we were assigned the task of using a random prompt generator and challenge to use the first thing we got, no matter what. I have such a hard time not following the rules, especially when I set out to do this specific challenge, so I followed it, even though I liked my second one better. HA. Anyway, the prompt I ended up with was:  
> "I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why I saw you float through a wall."
> 
> General rules: Each month a new chapter will be posted using a new prompt, given each month. I'm excited to be writing something! And I love a challenge, so this should be super fun.
> 
> Beta thanks go to dormiensa and dreamsofdramione, who also helped with alpha stuff, made the beautiful graphics for this story, and is also just generally awesome.
> 
>   
> 

**Wednesday, MARCH 1**

Hermione made sure to arrive at work a few minutes early so she could savor the enjoyment of turning her calendar to a new month. She smiled. March had just enough scheduled to be exciting without overwhelming. 

After having lunch with Ginny and Pansy earlier in the week, Hermione had scheduled her last three dates from George’s speed dating night, one each Saturday for the first three weekends in March. The first date had gone just poorly enough to temper her enthusiasm for the whole endeavor. She’d been surprised how little they’d found to talk about after having high hopes based on their time on Valentine’s Day, but then how much could she really learn about someone in four minutes?

Her plan now was to do something easy and hopefully fun with each wizard and see what happened. She scheduled each one to involve a meal at a different restaurant she loved each time so that at least she’d enjoy her food. The first three Saturday afternoons were blocked off for those dates and part of her hoped that would be the end of it. Preparing for her first speed dating date with essentially a stranger had been exhausting. On one hand, she hadn’t known him much at all and wasn’t terribly motivated to impress, but then, it _was_ a date, and she had wanted to look like she was making an effort. In the end, it hadn’t gone well, but she wasn’t giving up. She had three more wizards to go out with and get to know better, and she really wanted to stay open to the process.

In addition to her dates, Ginny’s baby shower and lunch with some friends from Hogwarts were social events sprinkled in her calendar. The Malfoy Foundation had nothing going except for a few planning meetings, and she was only needed for one of them. 

But she knew things would come up, and she wanted to be open to them. Two months in, she was still very happy with her decision to trim her schedule.

**Friday, MARCH 10**

Shortly after tea time, Hermione received a letter through the Ministry’s mail system. It was clearly from someone outside the Ministry, but she was surprised to find a note from Narcissa asking her to come to the Manor when she was finished with work. She’d said there was no rush and there was nothing especially alarming in the short note, but Hermione sensed that there was something Narcissa wasn’t saying. 

She immediately hurried down to the office that Harry shared with Draco to see if the latter was there. He wasn’t. 

“Where’s Draco?” 

“Well, hello to you too, Hermione,” Harry said with a lopsided grin. “Didn’t expect to see you again today. He got a message from his mother just a few minutes ago and said he had to go home. I don’t know what it was about.”

Hermione sighed, not sure what she should do. “Thanks, Harry.”

“Everything okay?” he asked, his grin morphing into a slight frown. 

“I’m not sure. I’ll talk to you later.” She didn’t wait for him to respond and returned to her office, wondering if she should wait until the end of the day or not. Part of her wanted to follow Draco and go to the Manor immediately. But if Narcissa had wanted her to come then, she’d have said as much. And she’d apparently wanted to see her son. Hermione shut the door to her office and exhaled in frustration. She knew that nothing she did at work would be very productive because she was anxious about whatever Narcissa had to say. 

She decided to go take her work somewhere else, away from her office where there was a chance she could focus. She chose a café in Diagon Alley, and while she wasn’t terribly productive, the change of scenery was a welcome distraction. When working hours were officially over, Hermione Apparated directly to the Manor. She felt oddly frantic, even though she had no reason to. 

After what felt like an hour, Draco answered the door. He smiled weakly and opened it wide. “Hey.”

“What’s going on?” Hermione pulled off her cloak and started walking, though she had no idea where she was going. Draco hurried and led her into Narcissa’s favorite sitting room. 

“Mother will tell you.”

As soon as Hermione entered the room, Narcissa let out a breath of relief. Hermione could tell that she was agitated, though trying very hard to remain calm and poised. “Hermione, thank you for coming. I’m afraid I have some unfortunate news. It’s about the fundraiser in April. The hotel in Diagon Alley, where we held the dinner in January, had to cancel us and a number of other events due to an infestation of doxies that could take months to clear.”

Hermione’s thoughts started whirring. The April fundraiser was the second biggest event of the year for the Malfoy Foundation, and they had been working on it since December. Finding a new location on such short notice would be a Herculean task. “What are our options?” 

Narcissa clasped her hands together and her lips tightened, a clear sign that she was worried. “I don’t know. It’s only a few weeks away. How are we going to find somewhere to host an event for over four hundred guests that isn’t already booked at this point? We sent invitations out two weeks ago, and we’ve got to solve this quickly or the entire thing will be a disaster.”

Draco approached her with a piece of parchment in his hand. “I’ve tried to start a list of places we might try.”

Hermione took the slip and glanced over it. There were only a handful of locations and she knew without even asking that half of them wouldn’t be available. “What about something in the Muggle world?” 

“Honestly, you know I’m fine with it, but logistically speaking, it’s always so much harder.” Narcissa wrung her hands. “There’s making sure all the attendees dress appropriately, handling arrivals and departures, containing any and all magic that might be performed… We’ve done it in the past, and with enough time, it works fine.” What she didn’t say was that with such little notice, it would be hard to pull everything together smoothly. 

Hermione glanced at Draco. He stood with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed in thought. When he sensed her watching him, he looked up, an expression of determination in his eyes. She turned back to Narcissa. “Draco and I will take care of it. It’s Friday, so we’ll start first thing tomorrow morning. We’ll brainstorm all night if we have to and come up with a good list of places to try. What do you say?”

Narcissa seemed surprised but only for an instant. Her gaze shifted to Draco and softened. She smiled. “I would be so grateful for your help, of course, Hermione.”

“We should get started,” Draco said, sounding tired but resolved. 

“I’ll order up some supper.” Narcissa seemed calmer already. “Shall we have our meal in here? Or move to the dining room?”

Draco glanced around the room. “I think the dining room would be more comfortable for eating and then brainstorming.”

Narcissa nodded. “I agree.”

Three hours later they were finished with dinner, scraps of parchment strewn across the table and the beginnings of a list in hand. 

“Would either of you like some dessert?” Narcissa asked, stifling a yawn. “Pardon me, I can’t keep my eyes open.”

“I’d love something,” Hermione replied. She grinned at Draco, knowing that he would never turn down something sweet. 

Narcissa knew this as well and didn’t even wait for a response from him before summoning a house-elf. “Bippy, please send up a small selection of whatever sweets you’ve got on hand for Draco and Hermione.” The house-elf nodded and bowed before disappearing. Narcissa stood. “I’m off to bed, darlings. I’ll see you in the morning, Draco, and you can fill me in on what I miss.” She bade them goodnight and gave Draco a kiss on the cheek on her way out.

Hermione stretched and pulled the list closer to review it. Most of them were sites in the wizarding part of England, but there were also a few Muggle places they could try if nothing else worked. “It’s too bad we can’t simply call these places,” she muttered.

“Are you sure you want to spend your Saturday doing this?” Draco asked. He had pushed his chair away from the table enough that he could stretch his legs out in front of him. He’d long ago shed his suit jacket and tie, though Hermione couldn’t imagine he could feel all that relaxed in nice trousers and a button-down shirt, even if the top button was undone and the sleeves rolled up. 

“Of course,” she replied easily. “This is vitally important. What time do you want to get started tomorrow?” A sudden thought struck her. “You probably have plans! I didn’t even think, Draco. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have blurted out and volunteered your help without speaking to you first!”

He shrugged. “Nothing I can’t easily rearrange if necessary.”

“Let’s hope we’re finished before then!” She laughed. 

Just then the house-elf appeared with a large tray of delicacies. Bippy set the tray on the buffet and bowed to Draco. “Please let me know if you need anything more, Sir.”

“Thank you, Bippy,” Draco said kindly, his eyes focused on an especially chocolatey-looking cake. He went to the table and cut himself a large slice, then poured himself an oversized glass of milk. Hermione laughed when she realized that the elf had brought it especially for him. 

“You really have such a sweet tooth.” Hermione went to join him so she could peruse the spread. Finally, she chose a delicious looking cheesecake and cut herself a liberal slice. She sent him a look, daring him to comment, but he merely raised an eyebrow and returned to his seat. 

“I might,” he admitted, savoring his first bite.

Hermione settled back into her seat beside him and tucked in to her own dessert. It was just as incredible as it looked. They ate in silence for a few minutes, then Hermione sighed. “Where shall we start? I know your mother said she was open to Muggle locations, but I also understand her hesitation to have something there. I’m sure there’s something I’m missing.”

“I say we start with places in our world, and if nothing works out, we really have no choice but to try something else.”

She took her last bite and set down her fork. “That was amazing.” She yawned. “I should get going. What time would you like me to be here in the morning?”

He shrugged. “It won’t take us long to travel, and I doubt anything is open for business before nine.”

Hermione nodded once. “I’ll be here just before nine then.” 

Draco escorted her to the Traveling Room. “Thanks for coming. I know you and my mother work really well together, but I know that she still appreciates what you do for her—and for the Foundation.”

“I love the work your mother does. And you with her.” She grabbed a handful of Floo powder and turned to smile at him. “I was happy to come. And happy to help tomorrow. It’s a good thing my calendar is so clear, right?” 

He chuckled, his long fringe falling over his eyes, which he then swept away. “That still going well?”

“Yes!” She bounced slightly on the balls of her feet. “I’ve read ever so many books since the start of the year. And I’ve tried some new restaurants I’ve been wanting to try. It’s been lovely. And I’ve even had time to spend with some friends I hadn’t seen in a while, friends I’d see in passing and always want to get together with but couldn’t find time.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said with a smile. 

For half a heartbeat, they stood there, eyes on each other while the flames in the fireplace crackled. One of the logs popped and Hermione jumped slightly, then laughed at herself. “Well, good night, Draco.” He nodded and gave her a small wave as she disappeared in the bright green flames.

**ooo**

**Saturday, MARCH 11**

Hermione knocked on the front door of Malfoy Manor at precisely eight fifty-two; just enough time to greet Narcissa and Draco and get to their first destination by nine. Narcissa opened the door and smiled warmly. Then her expression became one of surprise as she took Hermione in. 

“You look lovely, dear!” she said, welcoming Hermione in. “I’d offer you a cup of tea, but I know you and Draco plan to leave soon.”

“Thank you. And yes, we’re planning to be somewhere at nine. My hope is that we can be finished by lunch time, and maybe then I could accept your offer of tea.”

Narcissa gave her a pleased smile. “I hope that as well, Hermione.” She glanced around the large foyer, her smile dipping slightly. “That’s odd, I thought Draco was right behind me.”

Hermione didn’t see him anywhere. “Shall we go ahead to the Traveling Room?”

“Yes, let’s do that. Perhaps he’s already there waiting.” 

He wasn’t, but he arrived shortly after they did. Hermione thought he looked nice, dressed in black trousers, a shiny gray button-up shirt, and black vest. He wore black dress shoes and carried a sport jacket on one arm. 

Narcissa’s expression turned bemused when she saw her son, and she raised an eyebrow. “Thank you again for doing this for me today. I’ve got to speak with so many people: the caterer, the florist, the designer… Without a location, we won’t be able to make concrete plans, but we can get started on something.”

Draco leaned in and kissed his mother’s cheek. “Of course, Mother. Have a productive day.”

**ooo**

Three and a half hours later, they walked out of their eighth “Sorry, we can’t help you” location in a row. They stood motionless outside the door for a moment. Hermione felt a little discouraged but she refused to give into it. A gentle breeze rippled through her hair and dress.

“What are you thinking?” Draco asked, shoving his hands into his pockets and kicking at something in the sidewalk. 

Hermione considered the question, trying to sort her thoughts, but there was really only one overriding feeling. “I’m hungry,” she said with a little smile. 

Draco nodded and glanced around. “I saw a little Italian place up the street. We could go there and discuss our lack of success while we eat.”

She groaned playfully. “Yum, I love Italian.” They walked quietly down the street until they came to the restaurant. Draco opened the door and Hermione went in. Suddenly the mood felt very… different. She struggled briefly with feeling odd about being there with him, right then, having lunch with just the two of them, but they had done it numerous times before, always as part of their work for the Foundation. Why should today feel any different? She pushed away such not-quite-thoughts. They were only eating because they were hungry while working for his mother. Besides, after the excursion to shop for Ron, she had established a policy of very definitively not thinking about what Pansy had said.

Draco seemed perfectly at ease, and Hermione assumed he was. The restaurant was nicer than she had expected, and she was glad she was dressed appropriately. They examined their menus in silence, then when the waiter came, she ordered a dish of pesto lasagna. When he ordered a glass of wine with his meal, she did the same. 

Once they were alone, Draco frowned slightly and stared at something on the table. “You look very nice today. Do you have somewhere to go?” Just at the very end, his eyes met hers.

She fought the blush stealing across her cheeks and took a sip of water, breaking their eye contact. She had dressed with care, in a dark teal organza dress. The bodice had a wide band that wrapped around, and swaths of fabric coming from the band over each shoulder that formed a V-neck, giving the barest hint at what was beneath. The skirt was flouncy, with a few layers of organza that floated on each other and made her think of waves. She’d done her hair, taking care to tame the curls, and she’d even put on a little lip gloss. A pair of silver strappy heels completed the look. 

“Ginny’s baby shower is this afternoon,” she replied, taking a sip of water. “I thought I’d better dress for it in case this takes us most of the day.”

“Ah.” 

“I could say the same to you, you know,” she said, trying to steer the conversation to something light. “Do you have plans tonight?”

He shook his head quickly. “I saw you when you arrived and thought I should change. I thought we should look like we belong… um, I mean, that we… matched, I guess.” He seemed a little flustered. “I didn’t think it made sense for me to wear denims and a Quidditch jersey, for example.”

“Oh! I think I understand you. Our styles should coordinate to appear as professional as possible.”

“Yes. Precisely.” 

When their food came, something occurred to Hermione, something that might help in her efforts to not think about Draco in any kind of way. “Hey, has anything happened for you after the speed dating?”

He gave her a very odd look and just shook his head. “No, and I don’t expect anything to come from that.” 

Hermione said, “I thought you put someone’s name down. Didn’t you tell me that?” 

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean anything will come from it.”

She chewed thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s true. But you never know. I just recently finished scheduling my last few dates from that night, so maybe she’s just waiting.” 

His gaze was piercing and slightly disconcerting. “You’ve scheduled your last dates?” 

“Yes,” she replied. “At the end of last month.” She didn’t tell him that she’d had to reschedule one of them in order to join him today, though it had been on the tip of her tongue a few times. She didn’t know why.

Draco nodded once. “I see. Well, maybe you’re right. Who knows. How have your dates gone?” He asked the question as though he had glass in his mouth. 

“Honestly?” She chuckled. “Not great. So far, there will be no repeats. But I don’t really know what I expected to come from something like that. It was a long shot, I suppose. I have two more.”

“A long shot,” he repeated to himself. “Indeed.” 

Hermione couldn’t help but feel weight in his words, though she had no idea what it might mean. 

After a moment, Draco cleared his throat. “What do you think of our morning?”

She sighed. “It doesn’t look good. I wasn’t terribly surprised that a few of the venues were booked already, but all eight? That did give me pause. I know there isn’t much time, but I had hoped something would work out. What are your thoughts?”

Draco nodded. “I agree with your assessment of our options thus far. I think we need to look at… other places.”

She knew he meant in the Muggle world and she appreciated his consideration in not saying it aloud, since they were eating in a Muggle restaurant. Hermione bit her lip. She was somewhat hesitant to make a new suggestion after all the time they’d spent the night before working on a list of Muggle ideas, but since remembering the place, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. “I thought of something last night. It’s this place I went as a kid once. It’s beautiful. I think it might be perfect, and it would address all of your mother’s concerns about using such a location.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Something new? I’m curious.”

“It’s a large property in Sussex called Wakehurst. They have over five hundred acres, a very large, beautiful garden with plants from all over the world, and a big old house.” She glanced around, then discreetly cast a _Muffliato_.

He chuckled. “Sounds a little bit like my house.”

Hermione nodded. “It’s a lot like your house. I know your mother would rather not host events in your home if at all possible. I was looking at the map of the place, and near the back of the property there’s a lake. We could set up tents back there, amid the trees, put up some Repellant Charms, and nobody will know we’re there. Guests can arrive there via Portkey, there won’t be any need for altering the dress code.”

“The event would be outside,” he observed. “We’ve not really done that before.”

“I know. But we’re running out of options and time. The large tents would serve as a cover for both our activity and rain. People visiting the gardens would think nothing of it. We’d make it so that nothing happening inside could be detected in any way by someone outside—not that anybody would get close enough to see. But it will get dark, so we don’t want any light from spells causing alarm.” She took a quick breath and continued. “Plus with spring and all the flowers blooming, I think it would just be beautiful and a really lovely place for this fundraiser.”

“I’m open to the idea. Making it easy on our guests is extremely important, and it sounds like this could work. Not to mention that we don’t have a whole lot of choice at this point.”

“I agree,” she said. “I think it will be lovely, maybe even better than the original plan.”

Draco laughed. “Let’s not be hasty. At least, don’t say that to my mother.”

Hermione grinned. “Not until after, perhaps. If everything goes well.”

“Speaking of going.” Draco dabbed his lips with his napkin and set it down, then polished off his wine. “Are you finished?”

“Yes.” She rummaged through her purse for her wallet. As usual, when they were in the Muggle world, she paid for their outings, knowing that Narcissa would reimburse her. After all, they were on Foundation business. Once that was taken care of, they stepped out of the restaurant and Hermione motioned toward an alley she had seen before. “The good news is I’ve been there before so we can Apperate.”

Draco nodded. “Lead the way.” 

Once in the alley, Hermione held out her arm for Draco and he twined his with hers. 

“Ready?” she asked, steeling herself. It was never exactly enjoyable to side-along Apparate, especially for the rider. Draco stepped close to her, closer than she was used to him being, and she ignored the way she didn’t mind his proximity. “Here we go.”

They arrived in a clump of trees beside a parking lot. A startled squirrel scampered up a tree, shrieking at them. Hermione quickly disengaged from Draco and started toward the visitor’s center. He followed, hands in his pockets. 

Once inside, she asked to speak to someone about reservations, and after a few minutes, the Manager, a man by the name of Stanley Bartlesby, came out to see them. “Hello,” he said warmly after looking them over. “Welcome to Wakehurst. How may I help you?”

Hermione and Draco looked at each other, then she spoke. “We’re interested in seeing if you have availability for something in April. I know it’s very short notice, but we had to ask.”

Bartlesby looked genuinely disappointed. “I am so sorry, the mansion is completely booked in April.”

“Oh, we don’t need the mansion,” she said hurriedly. “We were thinking of something a bit more secluded? Surrounded by woods, really. Near the lake? I think I saw on the map some open spaces near there.” She knew they could adjust the area to their needs.

The man’s face brightened slightly. “Well, we don’t normally rent out portions of our grounds, but we don’t have a policy against it. What sort of services would you be requiring?”

“We’re thinking of using tents for seating. We can supply those, if you don’t have what we need.”

“How many guests?” Bartlesby asked. 

“It should be around four hundred,” she replied, glancing at Draco.

Bartlesby smiled slightly. “Four hundred. How lovely. Tents in the woods; are you very certain, Madam?”

Hermione blinked, a bit startled at the question. “Oh, yes, it would be perfect, really.”

“Well, I can say with certainty that there are no reservations for the woods near the lake for any weekend in April. What day are you looking at?”

She grinned, unable to contain her excitement. “The eighth, please.”

“Let’s just get the paperwork started, shall we?” Bartlesby said, motioning them to follow him. He led them to an office with a large window behind his desk. “Please, make yourselves comfortable. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Water, if you have it,” Hermione replied, taking a seat. Draco declined and sat beside her. 

“Will you need two tented areas?” Bartlesby asked, pouring Hermione’s glass. “One for the meal, of course, but something different for the ceremony? Or were you hoping to use one space for both?”

It took Hermione only a few seconds to realize what the question meant, and she sent a wide-eyed look at Draco. He seemed rather confused, however, so she quickly answered the question in the hopes that he wouldn’t think about it too much. “Just one setup is all we’ll need.”

“You’ll be wanting some kind of stage area, though, am I right?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes. And a dance floor.” If Bartlesby thought this was for a wedding, then she needed to let him continue thinking that without alerting Draco, who might try to correct the error. A wedding made the most sense of any scenario Hermione could think of involving a large space to host four hundred people, and she didn’t want to have to come up with a different explanation. 

“Naturally,” the older man said with a slight smirk. 

“We can provide the caterer,” Hermione said. “You won’t have to have your people tromping through the grounds to bring us food.”

Bartlesby nodded. “This all sounds… rather easy on our part.”

She gave him her most brilliant smile. “Oh, I’m so glad to hear that, Mr. Bartlesby. And I’m so grateful that the space is available.”

“How much will it take to rent the space?” Draco asked, piping in for the first time. Hermione wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but she hoped he was feeling favorably about the location. She knew that, since it was a fundraiser, cost was very important in order to maximize the use of the donations. 

“Considering we’ve never rented this particular spot before, I’ll need to consult with a few people before I can get you a quote.” Bartlesby stood. “Would you excuse me?”

“Of course,” Hermione said pleasantly. 

As soon as he was gone, Draco leaned over in his chair. “I have clearly missed something.”

Hermione chuckled and shook her head. “He thinks we’re planning a wedding.” When Draco frowned, she continued, “That _we_ are getting married.”

“Ah.” He sat up very straight, a wry smirk on his face. “That makes sense.”

“Will you... you know, play along?” She was almost certain he would, but how would he feel about the idea? Surely they wouldn’t be called upon to demonstrate their affection. 

He tutted. “Of course. This is for the Foundation, and I’m a Slytherin at heart. Even if I am a bit muted since the war.”

Hermione sent him a questioning look but they didn’t get to continue as Bartlesby bustled back into the room. 

“All right. We can do this for five hundred pounds. However, considering the circumstances, we’re going to need you to sign a few waivers and also pay a two thousand pound deposit, which you will receive back after the event.” 

She glanced at Draco, wondering what he was thinking. The rental price was very low, but the large retainer might give him pause. “Why so much?” he asked with a slight frown. 

“As I said, we’ve never rented out the grounds before. It’s simply to cover ourselves in the event of major property damage. I’m sure nothing of the sort will happen, of course.” Bartlesby winked at her. “I can’t say why, but I’m simply taken with the two of you, and if you’re coming to me mere weeks before such an important occasion, I daresay you’ve had quite a bit of trouble elsewhere. I hope you find this to be helpful.”

“May we have a moment?” Draco asked.

“Certainly. I’ll just step outside; you can find me when you’re ready.”

When the door closed again, Draco turned to her. “Four hundred Galleons for the deposit, right?” She nodded. “And one hundred for the space. Mother will be pleased; the event hall that cancelled us cost more than twice that.”

Hermione beamed at him. “Excellent! I’ll get him.” She found Bartlesby a few feet away beside a drinking fountain. “We love it, and we’re so grateful for what you’ve done for us!”

The older man gave her a satisfied smile. “That’s wonderful, just wonderful. We can sign the paperwork and we’ll be all set.”

Fifteen minutes later, they’d finished, and Bartlesby tucked their papers into a folder and set it aside. “Please, feel free to stay and visit the grounds. On the house.” He handed Draco a map. “The views of the Mansion House from the Pond are some of the loveliest, and the gardens house plants from all over the world.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind!” She stood and shook hands with the kind proprietor. Bartlesby seemed to be waiting for something, his eyes darting expectantly between her and Draco. Draco must have noticed because once he was beside her, he took her hand in his. Hermione forced herself to stay calm and collected while Draco again thanked Bartlesby. Then he gently tugged her along behind him into the hallway. Hermione could feel Bartlesby watching them, and she gave him a small wave as they exited the building. 

Draco didn’t release her hand immediately, instead waiting until they’d walked sufficiently out of sight of the visitor’s center. Again the awkward sensation she’d felt at the restaurant returned, but as before, he seemed not to notice it. He began studying the map. “I suppose we ought to look around a bit. Anything sound interesting? What’s a seed bank?”

“It’s a storage facility where they gather seeds from around the world to store them. In case of extinction.”

He gave her a sharp look. “Extinction?”

She nodded, amused by his apparent alarm. “Muggles worry about changes in climate affecting the viability of human life and the plants that nourish them.”

“Should we be worrying as well?”

“Probably,” Hermione replied. “But let’s not get into that right now.” She moved beside him to look at the map. “Let’s try the Pollination Garden. If anything is blooming, I’d expect it to be there. And we’ll get to see the Mansion as well.”

Draco nodded and folded the map, sticking it in his back pocket. “Do you have a favorite flower?”

The question was surprising but not unwelcome. “Peonies. Without question. They have these large buds that simply burst into bloom. I love to keep large bunches of them around the house, in various states of bloom, when they’re in season.” 

“And when is that?”

“Oh, not for a while. How about you?” She grinned, expecting him to backpedal or make some snarky comment. 

Instead he didn’t hesitate. “Did you know that a few years ago, some Muggles ran a campaign to establish county flowers? Wiltshire was given the Burnt-tip Orchid, and it just so happened that Mother had an entire patch of them in her garden. I started paying attention to them because notices were put up around the town, and I connected with the way the buds are a very dark purple but they open to reveal these tiny, pure white flowers. They almost look like little people, emerging from the dark, being given a second chance.” He paused. “Obviously I’m only telling you this because I know that you know that I would never speak to you again if this got out.”

Hermione laughed. “I’d never tell. Wild horses couldn’t drag it out of me.”

He smiled warmly at her, one of those rare, genuine expressions from him that never failed to make her breath catch. “I draw them occasionally.”

“I’d love to see that.” They’d just reached the Mansion and Hermione gasped. “Oh wow, it’s beautiful!” 

They stopped side by side to admire the enormous house. Draco opened the map again and read. “There’s a gallery of botanical paintings on display inside. Want to look?”

“That sounds nice. Maybe they’ll have a Burnt-tip Orchid on display.”

He grinned boyishly and they made their way to the mansion. After they’d perused the paintings for half an hour, Hermione saw a pattern in the floor tile that reminded her of a chess board. “Oh! Draco! Have you seen Tabitha recently?” Tabitha was the girl he’d met at St. Mungo’s at the Valentine’s Party.

His gaze followed hers to the floor and he nodded. “I was just there last week.”

“Has she beat you yet?” Hermione nudged him playfully with her elbow.

“She made me promise not to let her win again,” he said with a sigh. “I can still go easy on her.”

“Don’t. You should play without holding back. For so many reasons.” She started counting her fingers with each point. “She’ll respect you more for it. She’ll only work harder to get better so she can someday beat you. She won’t want you thinking you’re letting her win because she’s sick.”

“But that’s—” 

“ _I_ know that’s not why, but I’m sure she gets that treatment a lot. Think about it, all right?”

Draco sighed. “I’m sure you’re completely correct. Thank you. I’m absolutely determined to see that she gets to Hogwarts.” 

A swell of pride filled her chest and she smiled at him. “I’m certain that whatever you decide to do, you’ll be successful.”

They’d finished looking at all the paintings and were walking aimlessly through the open parts of the mansion. In one room there was a large grandfather clock that began chiming as they walked through. When the clock struck three, Hermione gasped. “Oh no! Is that the time?”

Draco’s gaze also went to the clock. “I think so. It feels like it’s about right.”

She grabbed his wrist without thinking. “I’m late for Ginny’s shower! I have to go!” 

He immediately started looking around for the nearest exit. They couldn’t simply disappear from inside the giant mansion because there were too many Muggles around. They hurried outside and into the nearest woods. Once they were sure there was nobody around, they stopped, both slightly out of breath. 

Hermione gave him an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry I have to leave like this! I was hoping to come with you to talk to your mother about this place. I hate to leave you with that.”

He waved dismissively. “It’s no big deal. She’s my mother. I’m used to this sort of thing. Plus she trusts me, and you as well, and I think this is a good decision.”

“You mean you _don’t_ need my help for every step of this process?” She chuckled. “I’m joking. I still feel bad I have to rush away.”

“Don’t. It can’t be helped. You’re late, so you’d best get going.” 

She nodded. “Right. Well, I’ll see you later, Draco. Please, owl me and tell me what your mother says. And tell me if I need to do anything.”

“This isn’t our first time, you know. We’ve done this sort of thing before.”

A slight blush crept up her cheeks. “Yes, of course. It’s just that I am so excited about this, I want to be there for everything. But I can’t. Thank you, by the way, today was lovely!”

Draco gave her a slight wave as she Disapparated. 

**Friday, MARCH 17**

“It’s going to be a quick lunch today,” Harry said as he slid into the seat opposite Hermione. “Malfoy and I have to head out on a case in…” He checked his watch, then grimaced. “Twenty minutes. But I have to eat, so here I am. No point in canceling.”

She grinned. “We can make this a very efficient conversation. My week has been fine. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“You’ve got a big conference coming up, right?”

“In May. It’s in Paris. The biggest annual gathering of Magical Creatures experts from around the world. Last year in India was incredible and I’m really looking forward to this year’s.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad. Ginny’s doing fine, Ron and Pansy are surprisingly well-suited, and George brought Luna round for Sunday brunch this week. We missed you.”

“I know. I miss The Burrow. I don’t think I’ll skip this week.”

Harry beamed. “Great! I know everyone will be thrilled to see you!”

“I appreciate the way everyone has respected my wishes. Well, mostly.” She shook her head. “Ron wasn’t thrilled when I suggested that maybe I wouldn’t come to his birthday dinner earlier this month. But really, I couldn’t miss it. I was thankful that I had the evening free.”

“That’s one good thing about being careful, I suppose.” Harry jabbed his steak and kidney pie. “You’ve got room to say yes to fun things. To be fair, though, you have always kept a ridiculously full schedule, Hermione. More than probably anybody I know. As much as I miss seeing you outside of this cafeteria, I’m glad you’re doing this. For you.”

“Thanks, Harry. I have to admit, I’m much more relaxed. And the things I do say yes to, I enjoy more than I expect. I think it’s because I have so much more time for myself.”

"How did your dates go? You had two more, right?" Harry asked.

She shook her head. "I only had one, and it was nothing exciting. There won't be a repeat. And then the second one I had to reschedule because something came up with the Foundation. Draco and I spent most of the day Saturday finding a new location for April's fundraiser. I was late to Ginny's shower because we were still out." For some reason, she kept to herself the fact that she was late because they had been looking at art after they had finished their task. 

"Oh, really?" Harry asked with a strange expression on his face.

“Yes. We spent all morning and into the afternoon trying to find a new location because the one Narcissa booked had to cancel on us. We found something, but I had to leave from there and go straight to the shower and I was late. Then that night, Draco sent me an owl telling me that his mother loved the location, so I went over the next day to help with invitations. We sent them out weeks ago, but now we have to send revisions. Narcissa found a printer to work all night Saturday, so all we had to do was stuff and address the envelopes.” A memory from the day before made her smile. 

“What? Why are you smiling?” 

Hermione chuckled. “Just something Draco did while we were working. Did you know he is an accomplished calligraphist? I had no idea, so he casually suggested we compete to see who could address the most envelopes. He totally set me up, playing it cool at first, then vastly outpacing me. After a while, he confessed that he’d been doing calligraphy since he could hold a quill. Apparently, Narcissa has always enjoyed putting on events of all kinds. He was even doing wandless calligraphy, up to three envelopes at a time, with different addresses. It was incredible. We laughed a lot.”

Harry gave her an exasperated look. “Hermione, I love you but…” Then he just shook his head. “Nevermind. I've got to get going.” He shoveled three more bites into his mouth, then started cleaning up his tray. “Oh, before I forget, Seamus wanted me to invite you out tonight. It’s St. Patrick’s Day, and he’s rented out this pub he loves back home. But don’t feel obligated.” Harry pulled a scrap of parchment out of his pocket. “Here’s the address if you can come. Later, Hermione!”

**ooo**

Hermione went to the party. She was about an hour late but judging from the noise and the chaos, the celebration had gotten started pretty early. The pub was loud, raucous, and full. She squeezed her way to the bar and ordered a drink, looking around for somebody she knew. She spotted Harry in a corner and Ginny nursing a water next to Ron and Pansy. As she made her way over to them, she saw that Neville, Hannah, Luna, and George were there, too. They greeted her warmly and pushed a bowl of chips toward her.

"You just missed it!" Ron exclaimed. "Neville and some bloke we don’t know just had an epic game of pool. Neville won, barely, and the other guy got all angry and red in the face. We thought he was going to punch Neville, but then he slipped and hit his head on the edge of the table and there was a lot of blood.” Everyone was quiet as Ron finished. “But they got it and him all sorted.”

“That’s terrible,” Hermione said.

“Yeah.” Ron nodded seriously. 

Hermione shook her head, wondering what she’d gotten herself into. 

Eventually, Seamus made the rounds and welcomed her with a boisterous hug. Then he continued his journey around the room, returning at regular intervals to greet them. 

After about two hours, Hermione found herself sitting at the bar alone, chatting occasionally with the bartender. When the couple beside her got up to leave, a wizard with terrible hygiene invaded her space and shouted, “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why I saw you float through a wall. If you’re a ghost, I’d totally let you haunt my dreams.” Then he guffawed loudly and backed away, high-fiving a friend and tossing back another shot. 

Hermione gritted her teeth and faced the wall again. She sensed someone new in the seat next to her, and they exchanged a casual greeting. 

“I heard what that Neanderthal said to you,” the man said after ordering a drink: whiskey, neat. “He’s a complete tosser.” 

The word Neanderthal caught her off guard but she did her best to hide it. “I think it was some sort of prank, honestly.”

The man swirled his drink, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Do I know you?”

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes again, instead giving him a tight smile. “Maybe. Did you go to Hogwarts?”

He grinned. “I did go to Hogwarts. And actually, I know who you are, but I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to talk to you for ten minutes. I saw that wanker make a terrible pass at you and figured I couldn’t possibly do worse than that.”

That drew a real smile from her. “Well, then I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage.” She studied him more closely and saw that he was tall, dark, and he did look vaguely familiar. 

He held out his hand. “Marcus Flint. I don’t believe we’ve ever been formally introduced.”

Her eyes widened in recognition. “Yes! I remember you. You were Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team for my first few years at school.”

“That was me,” he said with an easy smile.

“I believe that you, along with Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy, dressed up as Dementors to try and scare Harry?”

He faltered then, chuckling awkwardly. “I’d hoped you wouldn’t remember that.”

She smirked. “So, Marcus, what do you do?”

Relieved that she was still talking to him, he let out his breath in a rush. “I’m an Unspeakable so I can't really tell you what I do.”

“What?” Her jaw dropped. All she remembered of Marcus Flint from school was that he was long on muscle, short on brains.

He gave her a bored look. “What? You didn’t think that someone like me could become an Unspeakable?”

She instantly felt ridiculous at making such a snap judgment. “I’m so sorry. It’s just that I’ve never actually met an Unspeakable before. It’s kind of a surprise, is all. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“That’s fair. And anybody who knew me in school wouldn’t have expected it either.” He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m actually not just a Quidditch lughead, though I did my best to convey that in school.”

Hermione’s interest in Marcus skyrocketed. First, he wasn’t an idiot like she’d assumed. Second, he was actually quite handsome. She turned her body toward him, just a little, and smiled. “Well, can you tell me anything?”

He grinned. 

They talked for about an hour through two drinks, then Hermione yawned. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I’m so tired.”

“It’s late,” he conceded, finishing his drink. 

She found herself wanting to know more about Marcus, and before she could change her own mind or talk herself out of it, she blurted, “Have you ever gone on a date with a Gryffindor?”

His grin widened. “Have you ever gone out with a Slytherin before?”

The very briefest flash of Draco went through her head but that was ridiculous because she shouldn’t be thinking about that. “No, I haven’t,” she admitted. “But I’ve never been asked.”

He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, a playful twinkle in his eye. “So you’re saying you _would?_ ” 

She smiled coyly. “There’s only one way to find out.” Part of her couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but then, she’d had a few drinks, and Marcus was smart and interesting, so why not?

“Okay. I’ll bite. Would you like to have dinner with me?” Marcus asked.

She pretended to think about it, putting a finger to her lips and looking off to the side. “Um, well…” When he started to squirm just a little bit, she said, “Yes, I’d like that very much.”

He exhaled in relief, and she thought she detected a flash of something in his eyes. “Are you free tomorrow?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say no when she remembered she had a date already and she had determined that she wouldn’t schedule two big things—such as two dates with brand new men—in one day. “Oh, um, not really. I’ve not got a free Saturday until… April sometime. And before you ask, I’m only available on Saturdays.” Marcus seemed puzzled, but she was resolved not to break the rules she’d put in place. The last two weekends in March she had dates--Tony, the one she’d rescheduled from earlier in the month and Phillip who’d seemed nice enough during the event--then in April, she had scheduled herself a day with nothing, and the following Saturday was the Foundation event. She considered inviting him to that, but something held her back. “I could do the third Saturday in April, if you’re available.”

Marcus grinned. “Yes, absolutely. It’s a date.”

**Saturday, MARCH 25**

Hermione tugged her jacket tighter around her shoulders as she wandered through a little park near her flat. She was looking for a bench or a nice spot of grass on which to sit. Making time for herself was something she hadn’t at first thought a priority, but when her calendar cleared and she found herself a bit adrift as to how to spend her time, she realized she needed to find things that truly soothed her soul. Sometime in January, she’d been so out of sorts that she just walked out her door and kept going. Not only did the walk itself soothe her, but so wound up in Hyde Park, and seeing all the nature around her worked wonders on her state of mind. Even though nothing seemed to be growing, she found something lovely in the black, leafless branches against the gray sky. 

Since then, she often walked to the park, slowly watching the plants wake up. February had been dreary, but now at the end of March, signs of life were beginning to peek through. Trees were starting to bud, and she could see pops of color here and there amongst the barren landscape. 

She found her favorite spot unoccupied and sat down after casting a drying spell on the bench. It was the end of a long day, and she felt weary. She’d spent the morning helping her mother clean out the closet in her parents’ guest room, then met Phillip for her final speed dating date. It had crashed and burned. They’d met for brunch and it’d started fine, until the conversation turned to the definition of brunch. They had ended up arguing for thirty minutes over what constituted brunch, and not in a fun way. She’d eaten as quickly as she could, and then Philip asked for her to pay, since she was, you know, a war hero and probably had way more money than him. It was unbelievable.

Out of the four men she’d met on Valentine’s Day, there was only one—Tony, whom she had gone out with the week before—she felt any desire to see again. He was the one she’d cancelled on to work with Draco, and he’d been skeptical when she’d told him the reason for cancelling. She was thinking of inviting him to join her for the Foundation’s fundraiser.

If not for Marcus, she’d have felt very discouraged about dating, though she knew she shouldn’t have put such hope in the speed dating experiment. There had been something of a rush when she’d learned that all four of the men she’d felt a connection with had indicated the same, but she’d come to suspect they’d done so merely because of who she was. 

And, really, her expectations should have been more realistic. She’d had more fun with Draco during those four minutes than the rest of them combined, but she was actually looking forward to her date with Marcus. She had no idea what he had planned, but he’d already sent her a note saying she would need a semi-formal gown. 

The thought made her smile and she felt a silly swoop in her stomach. Sometimes she wondered if she’d see him at the Ministry, but in the week since bumping into him at Seamus’ party, she hadn’t. That didn’t stop her from looking, though. Harry had been amused by her dating antics, but there had been something in his expression—a tightness around his eyes, an overly enthusiastic smile—when she’d told him about Marcus. 

Hermione wished now that she’d asked him about it. A gentle, chilly breeze surprised her, tendrils of cold air sneaking inside her coat. With a surreptitious flick of her wand, she reheated her tea and took a sip, adjusting her coat and scarf to keep her warm. March was almost over, and Hermione felt like there was something she was missing. She’d wanted to date because she’d wanted to fall in love, but had she really thought it would happen quickly? If she were honest with herself, she’d admit that she’d at least hoped to be in the beginning stages of a relationship with someone by the end of three months. 

But romance and love weren’t things she could schedule or plan; she knew it would happen in its own time. She had done the work of making time for it in her life, and now she just had to wait. Waiting had always been hard because it forced her to admit that she didn’t have control. Since making her New Year’s resolution, however, she’d focused on not just making time for love, but making time for herself. And that, all by itself, if nothing else came from her efforts, was worth it.

* * *


	4. April

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is being written for Dramione FanFiction Writers 2020 Challenge. Each month a new chapter will be posted using a new prompt, given each month. This month's prompt was kind of... not too practical. The idea was to put yourself (meaning me) in the story somehow, but since I'm writing all of the chapters as a multi-chapter story, I didn't know how to do that. AND I wasn't too interested in it either, just to be honest. So dreamsofdramione gave me the prompt: "You look amazing tonight."
> 
> Beta thanks go to dormiensa and dreamsofdramione, who also helped with alpha stuff and also made the beautiful graphic!
> 
>   
>    
> 

Hindsight – Ch 4: April

**Saturday, APRIL 1**

Hermione didn’t usually look at her planner on the weekend. Though she’d worked hard to reduce her social commitments, she still used it for keeping track of her work obligations. Since the first of the month fell on a Saturday, however, she pulled it out while she drank her morning tea. Her day would be delightfully filled with a trip to Diagon Alley, specifically Flourish & Blotts, then lunch with her parents, and finally dinner to celebrate George’s birthday. 

She frowned slightly as she gazed at the rest of the squares on the page. More of them were full than previous months. The Malfoy Foundation fundraiser was the following week, then her date with Marcus. But other, smaller things had somehow found their way into her schedule, too: a midweek work dinner, a movie night with some cousins, and a speaking engagement for a charity. She had felt she should do them, but when combined with the classes she’d signed up for—magical art once a week and a biweekly cooking class—her free time was filling up. Plus, she knew there would also be things that would come up she’d want to say “yes” to. 

With a sigh, she closed her planner, wondering if she should cancel something. Her reaction upon seeing the fuller than usual page had been one of alarm, so she knew she wasn’t ready to have a lot going on. She vowed to think about each item carefully as soon as she had a free moment.

**Saturday, APRIL 8**

“You are going to blow his mind.”

Hermione caught Pansy’s eye in the mirror. “Tony?”

“Who? Oh, your date. Right.” Pansy continued pinning up Hermione’s curls. Somehow, Pansy had managed to turn her mane into something gorgeous that looked effortless and perfectly imperfect all at the same time. “Where did you find this dress again?”

“A department store in London.” One look at the dress on the rack and Hermione had known it was perfect for the fundraiser. The base was a tea-length, cream dress with an overlay of tulle on the skirt. About halfway down the dress, a large, damask pattern was printed in pale gold, and the tulle layer ended in a scalloped, pale gold edge. The top had a strapless sweetheart bodice covered by a sheer lace top with cap sleeves. It was elegant and understated, just right for an outdoor evening event. She’d bought a pair of short gold heels and a shawl to wrap around herself if it got chilly. 

“It’s flawless. _You_ are flawless. Whatever his name is does not deserve _this_ for his second date.” Pansy gave her a pointed look. 

Hermione shrugged. “What’s done is done. I liked him well enough last time I saw him.” 

Pansy spun Hermione around and turned her attention to the loose tendrils in the front. “There. All done. You look amazing.”

“Thank you so much for coming to help me.” Hermione collected her things and grabbed her shoes. “I’ve got to get going though; Narcissa is expecting me in… five minutes. I’ll see you there in a little while!”

Pansy waved as Hermione Apparated to Malfoy Manor. She arrived in the Traveling Room and an elf immediately popped in. “The Mistress will be here shortly, Miss Granger. She instructed me to ask you to wait here.”

Hermione nodded and thanked the elf, then started putting on her heels. As she finished buckling one, she heard the clap of shoes on polished wood. A moment later, Draco appeared in the doorway. He stopped abruptly and their eyes met, her sitting on a chair, leaning down to buckle a strap, him fastening a cuff link. Her breath caught and she had to return her attention to her shoe else he might notice her fluster. He entered the room slowly and she finished her task, standing to greet him with a forced expression of composure. 

“Hello,” she said, smiling awkwardly.

He gave her a curt nod. “Mother will be here shortly.”

The distance she felt between them was a surprise. After their enjoyable time searching for a new venue, addressing envelopes, and an impromptu night out with friends that had included him earlier that week, she didn’t know what to think of his brusque greeting. 

“Yes, I was told to wait here.”

Draco cleared his throat and stood beside her, staring at the large fireplace. “You look beautiful.”

She turned to say something, her heart pounding, but then Narcissa entered with a flourish. She beamed at them both. “Good. We’re ready. Shall we go?” She held out an elegant key and they all grasped it, feeling the familiar pull of Portkey travel. 

Once they landed, Hermione and Draco headed to the visitor’s center to check in, sign the final paperwork, pay the final bill, and receive all of the final instructions. 

Bartlesby was there again, and when he saw them, he waggled his finger, grinning mischievously. “Don’t you know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding? Now I know you young people are doing things differently these days, so call me old fashioned if you must. Let’s get this over with so that you, Mr. Malfoy, can make sure that your lovely bride is hidden away until the big moment!”

Hermione glanced nervously at Draco, but his smile was confident and relaxed, as though he did this every day.

“I’ll be delivering her to my mother just as soon as we finish here,” he said smoothly, accepting a pen from Bartlesby and signing his name. He then pulled out a roll of pound notes to pay the balance of their bill. 

Bartlesby wrote out a receipt and handed it to him. “Naturally, you two won’t be here in the end, but be sure that someone knows to have the place cleaned up before the last person leaves.”

“We will.” Hermione signed her name, finally feeling sure of herself again. “And thank you so much. For everything.”

Bartlesby winked as he put the paperwork away. He walked out with them and locked his office. “I’m headed home now, but if you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to call. You have my card.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bartlesby.” 

“Where are you off to?” Bartlesby asked as they walked outside.

“Off to?” Draco glanced at Hermione for guidance.

“The honeymoon, dear boy!” The old man laughed. “Where are you whisking this lovely young woman off to? Somewhere sunny, I hope.”

He recovered quickly and gave the old man a surreptitious grin. “Well, it was supposed to be a surprise, but why not? We’re going to New York City in the United States.”

Hermione’s heart leapt, even though it wasn’t true. She had always wanted to go there! Had she said as much to him? She must have, though she didn’t remember doing so. 

“Ah, it is a very busy place. I went there once, many years ago. Well, enjoy, and I wish you all the best in your new life together.” Bartlesby bowed slightly, then left.

Hermione turned in the direction of the grounds where the fundraiser would be held. “Shall we?”

Whether from habit or good breeding, Draco offered his arm and she accepted. They strolled purposefully but leisurely. 

“I’m so glad you didn’t say a beach somewhere.”

“Oh?” 

She chuckled. “I don’t love beaches. They are nice to visit, but not where I’d want to honeymoon.”

He kept his thoughts to himself, glancing around at the plants beginning to burst into life in earnest. “It’s amazing the difference in the vegetation in just a few weeks.”

“Oh! I was thinking the same thing!” They chatted about the plants around them until they’d reached the space where Narcissa had already begun directing the setup of the large tent. When she saw them, she smiled. 

“Everything sorted? Good. Draco, I need you to oversee the tent. Hermione, the florist and caterer have arrived but have nowhere to work yet. Once the tent is up, Draco will coordinate the dining tables, and you and I will work with the service tables.”

Time flew. Tables were set, centerpieces arranged, hors d'oeuvres prepared and plated, a bar set up, the dance floor assembled, and a string quartet was warming up as guests began to trickle in. They were set to arrive in groups of ten every two minutes beginning at six. It would take about forty minutes for everyone to arrive, and Narcissa had arranged for music and light snacks to pass the time.

Hermione was anxious for the six-thirty-six arrival; her date would be in that group. She had been unusually nervous in the weeks leading up to this event, waiting for Draco to ask her to be his guest, as he often did, knowing she would have to tell him no—something she rarely did. But he never asked. 

Ron and Pansy arrived at six-twenty, and she got to spend a few minutes laughing with them. 

“Are they always like this?” Ron asked, gaping at the elegance around him. 

Hermione smiled. “Pretty much.” 

Pansy asked in a low voice, “Has he seen you?”

“No, Tony isn’t here yet. I expect him soon, though.”

Pansy gave her a withering look but said nothing, her gaze darting over Hermione's shoulder as a smile graced her features. “Draco!”

“Good evening, Pans,” he said with a warm smile. “Weasley. Hermione, Mother requests your opinion on something.”

“Of course. See you around later!” She waved to her friends and headed toward the dessert table where Narcissa stood, talking rapidly to Gloriana Greengrass. 

After another five minutes of sorting out a situation with the fairy lights, Draco approached them with someone in tow. Hermione's stomach dropped as she recognized Tony. Instantly she knew she had made a terrible mistake inviting him. Tony wore ill-fitting black dress robes and brown leather shoes that clashed horribly. Next to Draco, he looked positively frumpy.

Draco stopped a few feet in front of her, his expression stiff. “Hermione, your—” 

“Hey, Hermione! Wow, this is incredible! You told me you helped with these things, but I thought you just did the flowers or something.”

She forced herself to smile and refused to look at Draco, though once his errand was completed, he did not stay. 

“Hello, Tony.” She took him by the elbow. “Let me introduce you to some friends we’ll be sitting with tonight.”

She deposited him with Ron and Pansy and was heading back to Narcissa when she saw something that stopped her in her tracks. As if in slow motion, Astoria Greengrass, practically glowing, floated through the crowd of tables. She wore a bright red satin dress and a string of diamonds around her neck. On her arm, guiding her through the tables, was Draco. He led her to the table where Hermione knew he would be sitting, whispered a few words in her ear, then sat down beside her. 

Hermione felt like she’d been punched in the gut. Perhaps she'd misinterpreted Draco's words about Astoria to his mother the month before, but she'd been under the distinct impression that he had no interest in the magizoologist. Hermione outwardly maintained her composure, but her mind was in overdrive. She tried desperately to understand just exactly why she felt that her entire world had shifted, but she couldn't allow herself to dwell on it for long. It wasn't the time or place, and she needed to focus at least some of her attention on Tony. 

****

**ooo**

Three hours later, the crowd had thinned considerably. It had been another successful fundraiser, raising over fifty thousand Galleons for long-term Cruciatus research. Hermione was standing near a food table, her shoes in one hand, a glass of wine in the other. The evening had been a blur and she was ready to go home. However, she intended to stay and help Narcissa with clean-up.

She put a few carrots on a plate and took a crunchy bite, just in time for Draco to join her. She hadn’t seen him much, but when she had, Astoria had been right there, looking triumphant. She hadn’t lingered.

“Where’s your... date?” he asked, glancing around 

Hermione shrugged. “I think I saw him flirting with Parvati Patil about half an hour ago.”

Draco frowned deeply and scoured the room, looking for Tony. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Not really. It was a mistake to invite him.”

“But he’s being dishonorable toward you! He shouldn’t be trying to meet someone new while on a date with someone else!”

“You’re not wrong. But it was hardly a date. We ate dinner together, that was all. I didn’t even dance with him.” She shuddered at the thought. 

He clenched his jaw. “It remains unacceptable.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you for being offended on my behalf. You’re a good friend.” Her stomach did a strange, mostly unpleasant acrobatic move when she referred to him as a friend. 

Finally, he spotted him and his eyes narrowed, then widened. “He is actually leaving with someone!” He started to follow but Hermione grabbed his arm.

“Please, don’t. You’re right that it’s unacceptable, but I don’t want to spend any more energy on him.”

“He should see you home, at the very least,” Draco groused. At least he didn’t follow Tony out. 

“Why should we both keep going through motions neither of us want?” She shook her head. 

“You deserve better.”

“I happen to agree with you.” She smiled at him, the two glasses of wine she’d consumed making her thoughts a little fuzzy. That thing she was actively avoiding thinking about was buzzing lightly near the surface of her thoughts. 

A flash of red caught her attention, and then Astoria was there, putting her hand possessively on Draco’s arm. “I’m ready to go home, Draco.”

He nodded once, his eyes on Hermione. “See you soon.”

She watched him walk away, Astoria clutching him like a lifeline. They looked so good together, so absolutely right. 

Hermione went directly to Narcissa to see how she could help. The food was nearly packed away, and some wizards were on the task of collecting chairs and folding the tables. 

“Oh! Hermione, there you are. What a night! Such splendid work and the venue was perfect. Thank you so much. I need to thank Draco as well. Have you seen him?”

“He just left to take Astoria home.”

Narcissa rolled her eyes. “Naturally, after everything I said a few months ago, he brings her. I stand by my word: I want him to be happy. I must trust that he knows himself.”

None of the guests remained, but as they set to the task of making sure the clean up was completed, Draco returned, still in his fine dress robes. 

“I thought you had gone,” Narcissa said.

“I came back to help.” He said it as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “What can I do?” He glanced around the room. “Looks mostly under control.”

Narcissa beamed at her son. “It is, dear. Shouldn’t be more than a few more minutes. Hermione, thank you for staying. Draco and I can finish up here.”

A yawn surprised her. “Oh, I am so sorry. Thank you, and good night, Narcissa! Good night, Draco.”

He inclined his head, hands in his pockets, suit jacket disheveled, and hair looking windswept. 

As Hermione lay in bed that night, she couldn’t stop her mind from replaying the moment she had first seen Astoria, waltzing through the tent as if she owned the place. She had a sinking suspicion that the thing she had been trying so hard not to think about had snuck up on her without her noticing. She had tried to guard her heart from thinking about Draco because he was entirely unavailable to her. Pansy had admitted to suggesting her to Draco, and his response had been negative. The last thing she needed was to have feelings for him, especially considering he had made it clear that he had none for her. But something had happened in her traitorous mind and she now found herself unable to deny that she felt something for him. 

She did. She absolutely did. 

And he was with someone else.

**Sunday, APRIL 9**

There was one regular occurrence that Hermione had truly missed when she emptied her schedule in January. Sunday dinner at The Burrow had once been the highlight of her week, before her weeks became so full she couldn’t enjoy herself. When she went again in March, her first visit of the year, all of the joy and the fun had returned for her. She’d stayed longer than she’d intended, but since she had no other plans, it hadn’t mattered.

She still didn’t attend every week, but she tried to join every other. This particular Sunday, she was feeling groggy after the emotional late night, but the last thing she needed was to stay home and dwell on her disturbing revelation. 

After sleeping in, she ate a leisurely breakfast with a good book, then went to the market down the street from her flat to purchase food for dinner. The invitation to The Burrow was open all day, so around ten, she Apparated to the back garden. 

Sunday dinner was always a loud and wild time, though not many people had arrived yet. 

Hermione let herself into the kitchen, where the Weasley matriarch was busy peeling potatoes. “Good morning, Molly.”

Molly beamed and gave her a big hug. “Hermione, dear, it’s so good to have you.”

Hermione pulled a vase out of an upper cabinet and filled it with the bouquet she’d brought. “Put me to work. I’m in a mood for chopping something.”

Over the next two hours, members of the Weasley family, plus those who’d been grafted into the fold, trickled in. Bill and Fleur arrived with their four children, who immediately started running wild in the garden. Next came Percy’s family: his wife, Claire, and their three children, who immediately found their cousins and started throwing clods of dirt at each other. Andromeda Tonks, with Teddy in tow, was punctual to the minute. George and Luna breezed onto the scene a bit late, as did Ron and Pansy. Harry, Ginny, and their toddler, James, were a bit more harried, arriving in time for Arthur to snatch James on his way out of the house and Ginny to help get the table set. The house was full and children ran around everywhere. She took some comfort in the chaos. 

Charlie and four of his fellow dragon-keepers showed up just as the family was sitting down to eat. Pansy caught Hermione’s eye and made sure to sit beside her. Ginny noticed and took one of the seats across from them; Luna took the other. Hermione wasn’t sure what Pansy might want to talk about, but she didn’t have to wait long. As soon as the food started to be passed, Pansy leaned over. 

“What was _she_ doing there last night?” 

“You’ll need to be more specific,” Hermione said, though she had a guess as to who Pansy was referring.

“Astoria, of course. Merlin, she looked like she thought she was queen of the castle.” Pansy scowled as she heaped potatoes on her plate. “Please tell me she was invited because her mother was there and not because she was with Draco.”

Hermione shook her head, wishing she could erase the image of Astoria’s face when she’d entered on Draco’s arm. “He definitely invited her. He stayed with her most of the evening. But you were there, you saw what I saw.”

Pansy harrumphed. “I’d hoped my eyes were lying to me. Are you absolutely positive, though? Maybe it wasn’t a date?”

“I know that he took her home.” She forced her features to remain impassive, as though she couldn’t care less about the subject. “He and I were talking and she came over, told him she was ready to go home, and they left.”

Pansy cursed and stabbed a green bean. “What is wrong with him? Why in the name of everything unholy would he ask her out _now?_ She’s been after him for over a year, and I know he knows it.”

Hermione swallowed thickly. “Maybe he likes her.”

“He didn’t like her two weeks ago when I asked.”

“You never know. Things can change quickly.” She was speaking from experience. “Maybe he didn’t notice he was gradually falling into her orbit until he was firmly there.” The pangs of her own realization were so, so fresh. 

Pansy rolled her eyes. “No. Not Draco. I just don’t understand.”

Hermione shrugged. 

“How was the fundraiser?” Ginny asked. “How were things with Tony?”

“It went really well! We surpassed our goal for the evening. Tony…” Hermione shook her head with a rueful grin. “That did not go well. It was probably a mistake to try and bring a date to an event where I’m working. He left with someone else.”

All three women gasped. 

Ginny smacked the table. “He did not.” 

“He did. But honestly, I’m glad I didn’t have to interact with him anymore.”

“I really can’t believe people sometimes.” Luna sighed. “George would never be so inconsiderate.”

“It goes beyond inconsiderate,” Pansy said with a huff. “It’s disgraceful. He’s a complete tosser. He doesn’t deserve another second of your time or thought.”

Hermione grinned. “I don’t plan to give him either. Ginny, how are you feeling?”

The witch in question absently rubbed her belly. “Well! Looking forward to meeting this little sprog in a few months. James is a handful sometimes, but Mum tells me it’s completely normal and not to fret.”

“Do you ever miss working?” Pansy asked, worrying her lip a bit. “Honestly, what gave me pause the most about dating Ron was the fear that, should we take this all the way, I’d be expected to… you know…”

“Have lots of babies?” Hermione offered. “I know the feeling.”

“Does Ron want a large family?” Luna asked.

“We haven’t really talked about it.” Pansy looked to Hermione for more information.

Hermione cleared her throat. “Oh, well, when we were together, he specifically said he didn’t want a large family. I think it had to do with never having new things as a kid, growing up the youngest of six brothers, never feeling like he could stand out or be noticed.”

“Phew!” Pansy exclaimed, breaking into a smile. “Hopefully that’s still how he feels. I mean, I don’t hope he still feels bad about himself! I meant about not wanting a big family. I don’t think I could do it.”

Hermione, Ginny, and Luna laughed. 

Then Ginny sighed. “I do miss flying. Every single day. But this is temporary, and I’ll be back on my broom as soon as possible.” Her expression was determined.

After dinner, a game of Quidditch was played as usual. Hermione enjoyed her time socializing with her friends, laughing at Luna’s stories of dating George, hearing Ginny snark about the game and how she would do everything differently, and listening to Pansy’s decidedly off-beat take on her relationship with Ron, The Burrow, the Weasleys, and life in general.

The whole day was time well spent, and she wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

**Saturday, APRIL 15**

After the week Hermione had, she considered asking Marcus for a rain check. A team of Aurors had discovered an illegal breeding nest of Ashwinders and Hermione’s department had been called in to help with the investigation. Unfortunately, Harry hadn’t been involved, which would have made the whole thing more bearable. 

Not to mention her fledgling feelings for Draco, which made her cringe any time she thought about them. How had she let it happen? How could one little comment from Pansy have fooled her heart into thinking it was a good idea to fancy her friend? 

No matter. She would simply have to steer her leanings in a different direction. 

To that end, she decided not to cancel on Marcus, but she had sent him a note requesting something simple and low-key. He’d replied saying it would be no problem.

Now, dressed in denims and a button-down shirt, she waited outside a restaurant in Diagon Alley for him to show up. She felt anxious because she wasn’t sure how she’d feel about Marcus after her inconvenient discovery the week before. She’d been genuinely interested in him and hoped that interest would remain.

Right on time, she saw him nearing the restaurant. He was dressed in casual trousers and a thin, cable-knit sweater. 

“Hey.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “Hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“Not at all.”

Marcus motioned for her to go inside ahead of him. “After you.”

**Wednesday, April 19**

A knock on her office door startled Hermione and she nearly tipped over her inkwell. She muttered a curse and turned to glare at whoever had interrupted her work, but her scowl melted when she saw Harry grinning at her. 

“Harry! What are you still doing here?” It was after seven and most Ministry employees had been home for a long while. She’d stayed behind to finish a report that was due the following day.

He gave her an incredulous look. “I could ask you the same thing, you know. But Draco and I just closed a huge case and we’re going out to celebrate. You should join us.”

“Oh that’s wonderful!” She beamed at him. “Was it the Gargoyle case? I know you’ve been talking about that one a lot lately.”

“It just so happens that it _was_ that case.”

“I’m so proud of you! I know you’ve been working on that for months!” Hermione stretched and yawned. “I’ve got two more minutes; will you wait for me?”

“Of course.” Harry entered the room and sat in a chair across from her desk. While she finished writing her report, he tapped his fingers on his knees and glanced around as though he hadn’t been there hundreds of times. 

After scratching furiously for closer to four minutes, Hermione capped her quill and inkwell, folded and sealed the report, and put it in her outbox. “There!” She stood and gathered her coat and bag and followed Harry out the door. “Who’s coming?”

“Oh, we’ll know when we get there! I sent messages to everyone. Well, Draco is obviously coming.” He repeatedly, impatiently punched the call button on the lift.

“Obviously.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Is he still writing the report?”

Harry laughed. “No. He wouldn’t let me come over here until he’d finished. He’s getting us a table at the Leaky.”

When they arrived, Ginny, Pansy, and Ron were there, as well as George. He and Draco were deep in a conversation, though they acknowledged the new arrivals. Hermione ordered a Butterbeer and greeted her friends. 

“I think this is everybody,” Ginny said, glancing around the room. “It was kind of late notice.”

Harry grinned. “I don’t care. I’m just so happy to be done with this case! It required more hours over the last seven months than any other case. Draco finally cracked it. He’d been telling me for weeks that there was something he was close to figuring out, but today he did. Well, last night, actually, but we followed it through today and solved the mystery. Can’t go into detail, of course.” He raised his bottle. “I’d like to toast. To my partner, and to the end of Mrs. Patricia R. Bumperton and her disappearing chickens.”

Draco tapped his bottle to Harry’s. “Hear, hear!”

Everyone else raised their drinks and cheered. 

Most everyone had already eaten dinner, so Hermione went to the bar to order something to eat, and while she waited, Draco joined her to place his own order. After giving his order to the waiter, he leaned his arms on the bar beside her. “I have to ask, have you heard from Tony at all since the fundraiser?” He scowled.

She laughed. “No, absolutely not. If he tried to contact me, I’d absolutely refuse to speak with him.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “The whole speed dating experience was bizarre so I’m glad, really, that it’s all behind me now.”

“That’s some mercy at least.”

“What about you? How are things with Astoria?” She brought her glass to her lips as she asked the question, kicking herself because, despite her rampant curiosity, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. 

He cocked his head, frowning in confusion. “Astoria?”

Hermione gave a short laugh. “Yes! You know, she was with you at the fundraiser? Remember her?”

For barely a second, she thought she saw him wince. “Ah. That. No, there's nothing with Astoria.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. "Oh?" It wasn't meant to be a question, but she couldn't hide the genuine surprise in her voice. 

He turned around so that his back was against the bar and took another drink. “That… was a mistake. Inviting her to that, I mean.”

She knew she shouldn't say anything more, but she'd always been too curious for her own good. “Why? I thought you two looked rather cozy at the fundraiser.”

Draco sighed. “Because I knew how she felt about me—feels about me. Everybody knows. Inviting her to an event like that sent the wrong message. I should have chosen a different course of action to see if there was anything there on my end.”

“You had one date; what ideas could she have had?”

“I suspect, since her… interest in me is common knowledge, she assumed that if I was asking her out, I must have been serious.” He cringed. “I’m afraid she got rather the wrong idea in her head about it.”

“I’m so sorry.” As she said it, she couldn’t help the way her heart leapt. “I take it she didn’t handle it well?”

“No. I didn’t tell her that night, though I probably should have, but I wasn’t sure how long it would take, and I felt that I should get back and help you and Mother. I went to her house a few days later, and it was not pleasant telling her that there would be no further outings together. That, after all, I wasn’t interested.”

Hermione nodded, unsure what to say. 

“She told me I hadn’t given things a fair go, and I was forced to remind her that we’ve spent a lot of time together in the last year, more so in these recent months, but nothing had changed for me.” He shrugged, looking at the floor in front of him. 

Hermione sighed. “You can't force it, can you?” 

He chuckled wryly and took another drink. “Absolutely not. Life would be so much easier if we could all just love the people we’re supposed to love, wouldn’t it?”

She glanced at Ron, who was laughing heartily at something Harry said, his arm draped over the back of the seat where Pansy sat. She thought of her long, childhood crush on her friend and their mercifully short, disastrous romantic entanglement. She’d spent most of it trying to will herself to be in love with him because she wanted it so desperately. “I don’t know, Draco. I think I rather prefer the mystery.”

Their eyes met and her heart leapt in her throat. 

“Here you go, Miss.”

The waiter pushed a tray of food to Hermione and walked away. Draco’s food was brought shortly after and they both returned to the table. She sat between Ginny and Pansy, and Draco took the only spot remaining across from Pansy. 

Before Hermione had even settled in, Ginny spoke up beside her. “How was your date with Marcus last night?”

Hermione started to speak, but Pansy blurted, “What?” loud enough that everyone stopped talking and looked at her. “Sorry.” She waved frantically, telling people to return to their conversations, but she leaned over so she could listen in. “Couldn’t help but overhear. Was trying to, actually. Did you say Marcus? As in, Marcus Flint?”

Hermione felt her cheeks burn at the embarrassment, though she wasn’t sure why it hit her so hard. Just because her heart had decided that Draco made it happy didn’t mean that anything would change, and she was used to talking about her dating life with her friends. It had never mattered before, but then, she’d never had such conflicted feelings for one person while talking about another before, either.

“Yes!” Ginny exclaimed. “The very same.”

Pansy’s eyes were wide as saucers. She gaped for a moment, then shook her head in disbelief. “Marcus Flint. He’s—”

“Witch Weekly’s Sexiest Runner-Up two years in a row?” Ginny supplied with a saucy wink. Then she turned to Draco. “No disrespect to you, oh reigning champion.”

He rolled his eyes. “Thank you for that reminder, Ginny. I do so love being objectified.”

Ginny froze, not sure what to say. 

Pansy snorted and started laughing. “I dare say Marcus enjoys his title a bit more than Draco does.” She returned her attention to Hermione. “Now start over because I haven’t heard any of this.” She shot a glare at Ron, as though it were his fault. 

“No, I only told Harry,” Hermione confessed. 

“Well I want to hear everything,” Pansy insisted. 

Ginny nodded vigorously. “Same here. I don’t know much of anything.”

Hermione cleared her throat, somehow managing to keep her eyes away from Draco, despite desperately wanting to know if he was listening. “There isn’t a whole lot to tell. We met at Seamus' St Patrick's celebration last month and I guess we hit it off. Enough that he asked me to dinner and I said ‘yes’.”

“Marcus was always this mysterious figure in school.” Pansy’s expression took on one of extreme self-importance. “After he left, rumors about him flew and grew until he’d obtained a ridiculous, almost celebrity status in Slytherin. I doubt much of any of it was true, but he was probably the most talked about student until Draco took The Mark before sixth.”

Ron shot a concerned look at Hermione. “Is he… all right?”

“You could say a whole lot worse about me than Marcus, yet you have intentionally spent time with me,” Draco interjected. 

“But you’re different.” Ron scrunched his nose. “We knew what you—”

“Careful,” Draco snapped.

“I was going to say that we knew what you went through.” Ron chuckled. “We knew you hated what you were doing. Harry did, anyway, and told us. We knew you couldn’t follow through, which was a really good thing.”

Draco clenched his jaw but said nothing. 

“And, you know, we like you well enough now,” Ron rushed out as though it pained him.

A few emotions seemed to pass over Draco’s expression, from amusement, to surprise, to something akin to happiness, finally settling on quiet ease and confidence. “Maybe you’ll find you like Marcus just as well.”

Ron scoffed. “Not likely.” 

Draco then turned and looked directly at Hermione, his mouth set in an easy smile. “Marcus is a good bloke. I hope it works out well for you.”

“Well? How was it?” Ginny leaned in closer. 

“It was fine. Completely fine. We had plenty to talk about.” She smiled at a memory. “We certainly don’t agree on everything, but it makes for interesting conversation.”

“Will you be seeing him again?” Pansy asked.

“I believe so. It ended well.”

Ginny put her hand on Hermione’s arm and looked into her eyes. “But did he kiss you?”

Pansy cackled. “Yes! That’s what I want to know, too.”

Hermione’s cheeks felt warm again and she avoided meeting anyone’s gaze. “No. But I didn’t really give him a chance.”

“See that you do so next time,” Ginny said pointedly. 

Hermione rolled her eyes and snuck a glance at Draco. He was talking to Ron, but oh how she wished she knew if he’d heard. Not that it mattered. She needed to repeat this to herself. 

Pansy squinted at her thoughtfully. “It doesn’t sound like it was amazing.”

“I wouldn’t say it was amazing, but it wasn’t awful. Closer to amazing than awful, though. I enjoyed my time with Marcus far more than any of my speed dating suitors.” Briefly, she remembered that Draco had been there, that she’d enjoyed her four minutes with him more than with anyone else, but then she had to quickly shut the thought down. He wasn’t interested. 

“That’s something, I suppose. At least he’s not bad to look at,” Ginny remarked. 

Hermione forced herself to smile. “I really do enjoy talking to him. We’ll have to see where it leads.”

Ginny rolled her eyes dramatically. “But are you attracted to him?”

“Nobody really cares about his conversation skills,” Pansy added impatiently. 

Hermione pictured Marcus in her mind and imagined him kissing her. She blushed. “Yes, I think it’s safe to say I’m attracted to him.”

Pansy smirked. “I have a friend who’s friends with Marcus, and she said that he’s notoriously picky and hard to please. You have to tell me as soon as he asks you out again.”

“Well, he indicated that he wanted to see me again, and I agreed,” Hermione said.

“Right before you didn’t give him the chance to kiss you?” Pansy asked, eyes wide. “Savage, Hermione. Just brilliant. He won’t be able to think of anything but you. I’m surprised he hasn’t Owled already with a plan.”

Ginny held up her sparkling water. “I bet there will be an owl waiting for her when she gets home.”

There was.

**Friday, APRIL 28**

It felt like a Monday. 

Everything that could go wrong did: she’d spilled tea on her blouse as soon as she got to the office (thankfully she was rather skilled with cleaning charms), she’d misplaced an important file and was five minutes late to a meeting because she’d turned her office upside down looking for it, four people had interrupted her just when she’d really gotten settled into a groove, and now she was late for lunch with Harry because she’d been held up by someone from Accounting. 

The queue in the cafeteria was so long, by the time Hermione joined it, that she considered just skipping and eating off Harry’s plate. She could see him at their usual table, looking decidedly frazzled. Maybe there was a full moon she’d forgotten about. 

When she finally sat down across from him, Harry was over halfway through his meal. “Sorry,” she grumbled. “It’s just been a day.”

Harry gave her a warm smile. “It has, hasn’t it? What’s gone poorly for you so far?”

After Hermione ran through her list of grievances, she asked him the same question. 

“Mainly it’s Draco,” he replied with a sigh. 

Hermione frowned. “Draco? I thought he was the perfect partner.”

“Oh no, it’s not that. He is, really, which makes it all the more frustrating that he’s taking so much time off in May.”

“Time off?” she repeated. “What for?”

Harry shrugged. “He won’t say. He’s been very hedgy about it. He’s got both an extra spring in his step and an extra layer of exhaustion about him. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was seeing someone, but I’m sure he’s not.”

“He could be, you never know.” She pointedly did not look her friend in the eye. It was absolutely true; Draco could be seeing someone and neither of them would know. Just because the last thing she’d heard was that he had ended his brief courtship of Astoria didn’t mean he hadn’t started up with someone else since.

Harry frowned. “No, I think I’d know.” 

“You don’t have any idea what he’s doing?” Hermione was instantly curious about Draco’s activities, but she also knew he’d probably tell her when she saw him next. Since their night out to celebrate the case he’d closed with Harry, she had only seen him a few times in the halls at the Ministry. It wasn’t uncommon for them to pass a few weeks without much contact, only now she felt the distance in a different way. 

“None. I think I heard him telling our boss that he’s going to be doing some travelling? But again, I might have misheard.” Harry polished off his glass of water and set his napkin on his tray. 

“What does that mean for you, having your partner gone for… How long did you say?” She knew he hadn’t said anything specifically but maybe she could get more information this way. 

“He’s taking off eight days in May. Eight! And not all in a row, either; they’re all scattered around the calendar. Not to mention the weekends we were on call.” Harry scowled. “I’ll be working at my desk more than usual, since I won’t have a partner, and if I need to go into the field, they’ll assign someone to go with me.”

She knew Harry liked working with Draco, but his reaction surprised her. “Will you really miss him that much?” 

Harry sighed. “He’s not just my partner, Hermione. I really like the bloke. We make a great team.” He leaned back and folded his arms. “But enough about me. How are you doing? Other than the Friday horror show.”

She chuckled. “Well, I’ve a date with Marcus tomorrow.”

Harry’s eyes went wide. “Oh? I remember Ginny telling me you might go out with him again.”

“Yes. I’m looking forward to it. We’re going to the symphony, the date we were supposed to have until I asked him to change it at the last minute.”

“You like him then?”

“Yes, I do, so far. He’s been perfectly amiable both times I’ve seen him, and smart, interesting, funny. What’s not to like?” 

In the nearly three weeks since recognizing that she’d developed feelings for Draco, the intensity of those feelings had settled somewhat. Not seeing him, except for that one night, had made her start to question the depth of those emotions. Maybe it had all been a byproduct of an intense couple of weeks getting ready for the fundraiser. He was her friend, without a doubt. Maybe she’d just imagined feeling more for him. Besides, he was not interested in her. 

Marcus clearly did like her, and she was enjoying getting to know him.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Hermione.” Harry patted her hand awkwardly. 

“Thank you, Harry, but I’m nowhere near the stage of the relationship where I’m in danger of being hurt.”

Harry regarded her for a moment, then seemed to make a decision. “Draco isn’t going to be here for the big Quidditch match that second weekend in May. Do you think you’d like to invite Marcus?”

Her eyes widened, surprised that Draco would miss the game they’d all been waiting to attend. Back when tickets went on sale in November of the previous year, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, Ron, Draco, and a few others had chosen this one game to attend together because it pitted last year’s league winner against the runner-up in a rematch the whole country was excited to see. “I, well... Sure, Harry! Thanks!” 

An interdepartmental memo came swooping into the cafeteria, hurried to their table, and dropped onto Harry’s tray. He looked at it with surprise, then picked it up. “Glad my food was gone.” When he opened it, he frowned. “A meeting was bumped up because the Head Auror wants to assign me a backup partner for when Draco’s gone. I have to meet him and see how we work together.” Harry’s voice had devolved into something like a whine. “Who’s going to write the reports while he’s gone?”

Hermione laughed. “Goodness, does Draco have any idea what a state he’s put you in? How dare he take some time off!”

Harry gave her a withering look. “Well, I don’t expect you to understand. Partners are vital to this work.”

Hermione gave him a patient, serious look. “I know, Harry. I know what Draco means to you. I’m glad you have him, and I know it will be hard when he’s gone, but it won’t be long in the scheme of things. I’m sure everything will be back to normal before you know it.”

**Saturday, APRIL 29**

When Marcus had asked Hermione out again so soon after their first real date, she’d been torn about how to respond. Part of her was anxious to pursue something with this man with whom she’d spent a delightful evening. Part of her wanted to push past her feelings for Draco as quickly as possible. And yet another part of her wanted to remain true to the guidelines she’d put in place for her time. In the end, the focus on herself had won out and she’d told Marcus she wasn’t available until the last Saturday of the month.

It was now the last Saturday of the month. 

So far, Hermione was pleased with her decision. She’d spent the previous Saturday taking her mother to lunch in London and then window shopping for the rest of the day. It had been a delightful, impromptu addition to their outing, and had been just what she’d needed. 

She’d told her mother about Draco. Everything. From what Pansy had said to first draw her attention to him in a new way, to their time finding a new location for the fundraiser, up through their conversation the week before. Her mother had listened attentively and patiently, and after hearing what Hermione had to say, had told her that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance he felt the same.

But then at The Burrow, Pansy hadn’t said a word about Draco and had been very keen to hear all about Hermione’s date with Marcus. She hadn’t made any reference to what she’d said in February, which probably meant there’d been nothing to it. 

Now Hermione was left trying to ward off those pesky feelings. She was thankful she had Marcus to help take her mind off Draco. Not that she thought about him constantly. She really didn’t. But now, every time she saw him in the halls at work, whether they exchanged a few words in greeting or he waved to her from across the room, she got the lovely, swirling feeling of fresh attraction. She groaned each and every time. 

The nice thing was that, on her first date with Marcus, she had felt a similar swooping sensation when he’d touched her hand during dinner and when he’d helped her into her cloak. Then again when he’d put a hand on her back as they’d left the restaurant. 

At least she hadn’t developed feelings for Draco and fallen madly and irrevocably in love with him upon realizing the fact. She still felt she was in control of her heart, and she could steer it where she wanted it to go. The hardest part was that she wasn’t sure. She didn’t think there was any point in pursuing her feelings for Draco, and she wasn’t sure she even wanted to. 

She adored him, certainly, and appreciated his friendship. He was thoughtful and intelligent, kind and surprisingly open-minded, considering how he was raised. But then, Narcissa had led the way there, fully embracing the new order of the wizarding world and adapting to it quickly. She’d been an incredible example for Draco, who hadn’t needed much of a nudge to fully embrace becoming someone new. 

A knock at her door startled her from her thoughts and she jumped slightly, then laughed at herself. It could only be Marcus, coming to pick her up for their date. He had insisted on making up their missed outing to the symphony by taking her tonight.

When she opened the door, Marcus whistled, surprising her. “You look amazing tonight.”

She smiled shyly, her cheeks heating at his gaze. “Thank you. You look rather dashing yourself.” He was wearing some of the finest dress robes she’d ever seen, and she’d been around Draco dressed to the nines dozens of times. 

Hermione pulled her wrap tighter around her shoulders, made sure she had her purse—her trusted beaded bag, Transfigured to suit the occasion—and closed her door. 

The symphony was breathtaking. Marcus was disappointed to learn that it wasn’t her first trip to a wizarding production, but it passed quickly. Hermione loved the magical instruments and the way magic was involved throughout the evening. She was delighted when, about twenty minutes into the show, Marcus slyly reached over to take her hand in his. Then, after the show was over, they took a stroll in the neighborhood around the symphony hall. It was relatively quiet and they weren’t in a hurry. They found an ice cream shop that was open late and Hermione insisted on buying them both a scoop. 

When he walked her home, Hermione decided she’d let him kiss her if he tried. It would be a nice way of determining whether there was real chemistry between them. It was late, nearly one in the morning, and she was thoroughly exhausted, but not anxious to end the evening. They walked extra slowly down her street. 

“I had a really nice time tonight, Hermione.” He flashed his easy smile and Hermione remembered what Pansy had said about him enjoying his Witch Weekly celebrity status. Vanity was easily one of his faults, though it was the only one she’d identified thus far. 

“As did I,” she replied with a tired yet earnest smile. “Thank you for the lovely evening. The symphony was just wonderful and I found a new restaurant I love.”

He chuckled and together they ascended the steps in front of her building. Hermione’s stomach was in knots, but she wasn’t going to fiddle around and hem and haw and hope and wait for a kiss. If he wanted to kiss her, he was going to have to just do it. 

“And I tried a new flavor of ice cream.” 

They stopped in front of the door and Hermione felt like she was watching herself in one of those romantic comedy films she saw occasionally with her mother or her cousins. She felt a little self-conscious and hoped to get inside as quickly as possible.

“Well, thank you again, Marcus.” She moved ever so slightly to open the door when he reached his hand out to stop her. 

“Before you go, I’d like to ask when I could see you again?”

Hermione managed to fight the giant grin that threatened to burst from her, instead keeping her expression calm and pleased. “I’ve got a major conference in Paris the first week in May. Oh!” She gasped, eyes wide, as she remembered the Quidditch game. “Would you want to join me and some friends on the thirteenth to see the Harpies play Puddlemere?”

Now Marcus’ eyes were as big as saucers. “Are you joking? Of course I’d love to come! Wow, how did you score tickets for that game?”

“We bought them months ago. And now Draco can’t come, so we have an extra ticket.” She didn’t miss the flicker of annoyance that briefly marred his features. 

Then Marcus smirked. “You want to introduce me to your friends? Already?”

She blushed. “Well, it just so happens that you’ll meet them. Not that you don’t know them.”

“Of course. But you’ll be introducing me as your… date?” As he said this, he stepped closer, his eyes intense. “I’m not sure we’re ready for that stage. We haven’t even kissed.”

A shiver ran through her and she wished she’d cast a Warming Charm, even though it hadn’t had anything to do with the temperature. “That’s true. We haven’t, have we?”

He grinned and crooked a finger, using it to gently tilt her head up. Then he kissed her. As first kisses go, it was very good, she thought, as he rested one hand on her hip and snaked the other to the back of her neck. He was impatient, wanting more quickly, but she made him work for it. After a few minutes, she pulled away, slightly out of breath. She felt giddy and light-headed, like she was floating on a cloud. 

“Good. That’s taken care of,” she said, smiling warmly. “Now we’re cleared for you to interact with my friends.”

Marcus seemed reluctant to let her go, one hand still firmly holding her in place. “I think we should give it another go. Just to really check off that box.”

Hermione laughed and started for the door. “As much as I love to talk about checking boxes, it’s very late and I’m tired. Thank you again for the lovely night, Marcus.”

He sighed and held open the door for her to enter her building. “Good night, Hermione.”


	5. May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's May. Hermione goes to a conference, a Quidditch game, and a birthday tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is being written for Dramione FanFiction Writers 2020 Challenge. For May, we were randomly assigned a flower, and I was given MAGNOLIA. Considering I spent a lot of time on flowers in March and April, I was a little worried, but I think it fits nicely in its little spot. 
> 
> Beta thanks go to dormiensa and dreamsofdramione, who also helped with alpha stuff and general cheerleading. She also made this beautiful chapter graphic!
> 
>   
> 

**Monday, MAY 1**

Hermione glanced at her calendar, then at her packing list. She was very excited to leave the following day for Paris. The one hundred and forty-third annual International Conference for Cooperation with Magical Creatures took place over five days and included a whole range of topics, from how to raise Bowtruckles to nurturing Diricawl eggs to safely extracting fallen scales from dragon nests and everything in between. There would be scholarly lectures on growth rates, workshops on proper technique in applying flabbergasted leeches, and round table discussions on the best way to coax a Hippogriff out of a cave. 

Needless to say, she couldn’t wait. Though, to be honest, she was mostly looking forward to being in Paris, in May, away from work, while the Ministry paid her for her time. She’d even booked an extra night at her hotel to give herself a full day in Paris after the conference concluded. 

Other than the conference, there wasn’t a whole lot on her calendar. After doing a bit too much in April, she’d scaled back once again until she’d felt like she could breathe. The Quidditch match with her friends—which now included Marcus—was on the second Saturday of May. Beyond that, there was nothing written, and she felt very good about it.

**Tuesday, MAY 2**

The conference was packed, as per usual. It was Hermione’s third trip in as many years representing her department at the event. The previous year a coworker had accompanied her, but this time she was by herself. She couldn’t wait to enjoy the whole experience, enjoy Paris, all by herself.

After registering and receiving her packet, Hermione put the name tag lanyard around her neck and made her way into the main auditorium where the conference would officially begin. She was just debating whether she should visit the restroom before it started when someone called her name.

“Hermione?”

She spun around, looking for the source of the voice, and jumped in surprise when she saw Astoria Greengrass waving from a few yards away. The Magizoologist was in a huddle with a few other people, but she quickly disentangled herself from the conversation and made her way toward Hermione. 

“It’s so great to see you!” Astoria gave Hermione one of those impersonal hugs she imagined every pureblood witch learned by the time they were four. 

Her arms were full, so she couldn’t return the gesture. “Hello, Astoria. This is a surprise. Are you here for the conference as well?”

Astoria beamed. “Yes! It’s my first time. I was asked to give a talk on my experience with the Niffler. They’re my favorite, you know.”

“That’s lovely.” Hermione smiled patiently. Hermione wasn’t surprised that Astoria’s favorite magical creature was attracted to shiny things and excellent at spotting treasure. Then she mentally scolded herself for her uncharitable thoughts. She had no way of knowing why Astoria was so keen on Draco, and it might have nothing whatsoever to do with the gold in his vault.

“Where are you sitting? Could I join you? I don’t really know anyone and I feel awfully out of my league among all these really smart people.” She tittered like a string of bells. 

Hermione just managed to avoid rolling her eyes. “Of course you may. I just arrived, however, and don’t have a seat yet.”

Astoria linked arms with Hermione and steered her toward the auditorium. “Let’s go find seats then, shall we? I think sitting up front would be grand.”

They found a pair of open seats about seven rows from the stage and settled in for the opening announcements and lectures. Thankfully, there was no time or space for talking much after things got started. Though she did examine the schedule with Astoria during a short break, where she decided which lectures and workshops to attend. 

Astoria really wasn’t so terrible. Hermione just felt strange interacting with her when their only connection was Draco—who had very clearly told her that he wasn’t interested in Astoria, and whom she’d only recently realized she cared for beyond the boundaries of friendship. 

It was a very new experience for her. Every time she thought of him—every time!—she felt that tell-tale swoop in her gut. Whenever anyone mentioned him, she became self-conscious, as though everyone could surely tell that she had feelings for him. She tried her best to squash them, to tell herself—repeatedly and often—that it was ridiculous for her to think about him as anything other than her friend, but her traitorous heart wouldn’t listen. It insisted on continuing to flutter when he crossed her mind and speed up at the mention of his name. 

What made it even more confusing was that she had similar feelings for Marcus. Naturally, those weren’t as complex as what she felt for Draco, considering she hadn’t known him very long, but she wasn’t sure what to make of her reactions to both men. Sure, she’d fancied more than one person at a time before, but this was something much stronger. 

What she had with Draco was so much more than just an uninformed attraction or even a passing acquaintance. She considered him one of her best friends. 

And Marcus… He was delightfully intelligent, witty, handsome, and an overall surprisingly positive addition to her life. He made sense in every way, and she was enjoying getting to know him better. She was doing her best to keep her boundaries in place, though she hadn’t quite thought through what they would look like in an actual relationship. She maintained that she would only go out on Saturdays, but he’d asked her to dinner a few times during the week, and she’d felt a pang of regret saying no. She could tell she would need to revisit her parameters soon.

When the final lecture of the afternoon ended, Hermione’s thoughts were spinning, as they always did when presented with new information. She was anxious to get to her hotel room and sort through her notes. 

Astoria was beaming at her. “Hermione, I think we should meet for dinner so we can discuss what we’ve learned so far.” 

Hermione nodded with a limp smile. So much for enjoying her time alone. 

**Wednesday, MAY 3  
**  
When she woke the next morning, she took her time getting ready. If the previous evening was any indication, Astoria intended to stick by her side as much as possible. Hermione decided she would order breakfast in her room and even get up a little early to enjoy some time to herself. She’d have to figure out ways to get breaks from Astoria during the day, but at least they were interested in different things. 

Still, Hermione needed space to think between sessions, and Astoria seemed to prefer talking through everything she’d just learned. 

Her boss had asked that she Floo every morning to give a brief report of her time. By the time she left her room, she was actually five minutes late for the first joint session of the day. Hermione crept into the back of the auditorium and took the first seat she could find. Somehow, Astoria was by her side as soon as she stood to leave. 

“Missed you at breakfast.” Astoria’s smile wavered, as though worried she had done something to upset her.

“I had some things I needed to do, so I ordered food in. You’ll probably be on your own for breakfasts, as I have to check in with my boss every morning.”

Astoria nodded, relieved. “All right. I’ll manage. Where are you headed next?”

****

ooo

The day flew by and before Hermione knew it, they were announcing a simple mixer for the evening. The conference had reserved an entire restaurant in the magical part of Paris, expanded to accommodate everyone who wished to go. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to attend, but it was being held in a lovely part of the city, and she was anxious to walk around. Paris in spring was one of her favorite things. In a moment of goodwill, Hermione invited Astoria to join her.

Astoria blinked. “What do you mean, walk to the restaurant?” 

“Yes. They’ve provided Portkeys for everyone, but I fancy a walk. Though it’s a good bit of one, so I was planning to take the Metro most of the way.”

“What’s the Metro?” Astoria asked with a frown.

Hermione chuckled. “It’s the Muggle mass transit system. A series of underground trains throughout the city. I’ve been on it plenty of times before, we’ll be perfectly fine. What do you say?”

Astoria appeared to be genuinely conflicted. “Is it very… _Muggle?_ ”

“Yes. Completely.” Hermione finished buttoning her lightweight coat and slung her bag across her shoulder. “I’ve got to get going now if I want to make it in time. Are you coming?”

“Oh, all right.” Astoria glanced down at herself. “Should we perhaps change? I think I’d rather put on something different for dinner.”

Hermione hesitated. “You’re welcome to. How long will it take?”

“Not long at all. I’ll be back in five minutes. I’ll meet you in the lobby.” Astoria hurried away before Hermione could reply. It was a mildly Slytherin thing to do, and it made Hermione smile. 

True to her word, Astoria returned just as five minutes expired. She had a light cardigan over one arm and her wand gripped so tightly her knuckles were white. 

Hermione gave her a patient smile, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “You can’t walk around with that. I promise, you’ll be fine.”

Half an hour later, they were laughing as they arrived at the restaurant. “That was… fascinating,” Astoria said, opening the door for Hermione.

“And look, we made it without incident.” She hesitated when the wave of sound hit her through the open door.

“Coming?” Astoria asked, motioning into the building. 

“On second thought, I think I’d rather not.” Hermione glanced up and down the street. There were a few food offerings, and they were in a popular part of town where she was sure they could find something to eat with very little trouble. “I’m not much in the mood to be around large crowds and lots of noise. I’ve had enough of that for the day. I’m going to find something else to eat.”

“Oh.” Astoria looked into the crowded restaurant with something akin to longing, then let the door close. “I’ll come with you, then. I don’t know anyone in there.”

Hermione nodded and started walking toward what she hoped was a Thai place. She was thrilled to discover she’d been right, and after spending a solid five minutes assuring Astoria that she’d be able to find something suitable to eat, ushered the hesitant witch through the door.

It was the kind of place where they ordered at a counter and took their food to a table. Hermione ordered for herself, then helped Astoria find something. Since it was a Muggle place, she also took care of payment. She’d changed some of her Galleons into pounds before leaving England, then into Euros upon her arrival in Paris. Her extra day would be spent largely in Muggle Paris, so she’d certainly need the right currency. 

They found a secluded table at the front corner and tucked into their meals. Astoria exclaimed in surprise at how delicious the food was. Hermione tried not to sound too annoyed with her companion’s passively prejudiced statements about Muggles, their cuisine, their hygiene, and their manners. 

Finally, the food was gone, and Hermione suggested they walk back to their hotel. Astoria wasn’t thrilled with the idea but eventually agreed. 

After walking for a few minutes in silence, wherein Hermione thrilled at the sights and sounds of the City of Light, Astoria spoke.

“Hermione? May I ask you a question?”

Her tone set off something like a warning bell in Hermione’s mind, and she had a sudden, sinking feeling that the real reason Astoria had attached herself was about to be made clear. “Of course. I can’t promise to have an answer for you.”

Astoria laughed, somewhat nervously. “No, no. I know. It’s just… I have to ask.”

Dread settled in her gut; of course Astoria would ask about _him_.

“What is it?” Hermione forced a slightly impatient smile, hoping to convey that she wasn’t thrilled with where the conversation was probably headed.

“You’re friends with Draco. Right?”

Hermione nodded. “Correct. We’ve been friends for a few years.”

Astoria’s brow furrowed and she seemed to be struggling with what exactly to say. Perhaps she’d thought Hermione would jump in and answer her question without needing to be asked, but Hermione had no intention of saying more than absolutely necessary. “Does he… ever talk about me?”

“We mostly talk about foundation things.” It wasn’t a total lie. “We don’t typically get into who we’re seeing.” Still mostly true. That was a rather new development, and she really wasn’t sure what she thought of it. She’d been happy to hear that he hadn’t continued to see Astoria, but really, she had no place or cause for such feelings. 

“I didn’t really expect you to tell me anything, even if he does talk about me.” Astoria sighed. “It’s just… I had _so_ hoped that he had finally seen me in a new way. You know?” Astoria wrapped her arms around herself as though she could protect herself from the hurt she was feeling. “I’ve fancied him for ever so long. Over two years. I’d done everything I thought might draw his attention, but nothing seemed to work. Daphne repeatedly told me to move on, but you can’t just force that. When he invited me to the fundraiser, I couldn’t believe it.” She laughed ruefully. “It was completely out of nowhere. Naturally I said yes without a moment’s hesitation. He knew how I felt—everyone did. So if he was asking me out, it had to mean that he felt the same. Right?”

They stopped walking when they reached the river. Their hotel was on the other side, but it was so lovely, so clear and fresh, that they both paused without a word. Astoria leaned on the railing and peered out over the water. “I hope you don’t mind. I’ve had no one to really talk to about this. My sisters both cautioned me to be realistic, not to assume that his feelings had changed, but why else would he ask me out?” She looked down and kicked at something on the pavement. “Anyway, after that night, I thought for sure he’d ask me out again. After all, I thought we’d had a nice time. Well, a few days later, he came to the house and told me he was sorry but he didn’t plan to ask me out again. It was such a shock. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Ever since then, I’ve tried to figure out what I did wrong. I must have done something, said something, or maybe it was my dress? I was hoping maybe... you knew? He was talking to you there at the end, when I came to ask him to take me home. Did he happen to say anything?”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “Oh, we weren’t talking about you. Just… other things.” It sounded lame, but she didn’t want to tell Astoria that Draco had been upset over the way Tony had treated her that night. It would likely give the other witch the wrong idea.

Astoria sighed. “And since then? Has he said anything?”

“You should know that, if he had, I wouldn’t betray his confidence.” In a way, she wished she could ease the other woman’s suffering, but considering her own revelation on the night they were discussing, she wasn’t feeling very charitable. 

“Oh no, of course not. I wouldn’t want you to. I had hoped that, perhaps, he had merely mentioned me offhand or something.” Astoria groaned and rested her arms on the railing, then dropped her head onto them. “Merlin, I feel so ridiculous. Why can’t I just move on? Why can’t I have feelings for someone else?”

Hermione awkwardly put her hand on Astoria’s back and patted her twice. Astoria’s lament sounded strangely similar to what Draco had said, about ‘loving whom we’re supposed to love.’ Perhaps he was frustrated with himself for not returning Astoria’s affections, wishing that he did, for whatever reason. Or maybe he meant something else entirely. She truly wished she knew.

Astoria straightened and gave Hermione a small smile. “All right. Thank you. I had to ask, though I didn’t expect much.”

They resumed walking. After a moment, Hermione spoke. “I do think you should stop beating yourself up over that night. I’m sure you didn’t do anything, or say anything, to upset him. And your dress was absolutely perfect for the occasion.” She smiled. “Sometimes, love doesn’t make sense.”

“I know that. You’re completely right.” She gave Hermione a grateful smile. “I appreciate you listening. As I said, it’s nice to talk to someone who knows him but didn’t grow up with him.”

Hermione chuckled. She did grow up with him, in a way. Only they’d been on opposite sides of friendship. 

**Thursday, May 4**

Just as she was about to leave for the first session of the day, an unfamiliar owl tapped at her window. Surprised, she admitted the bird, who flew in and dropped off a package wrapped in brown paper with a note attached to it. After giving the bird a treat, she released it and stuffed the package into her bag to look at later. It wasn’t from Harry or her work, so it would have to wait until she had a spare moment to open it. 

Astoria was waiting for her at the entrance to the auditorium and she hardly strayed from her side all day. Thankfully, Hermione got a respite after lunch, when she and Astoria went to separate workshops. As she waited for hers to begin, Hermione took out the package. She recognized the handwriting on the letter immediately and her heart raced as she tore the seal. 

_Hermione,_

_I trust that you are having a wonderful time at your conference and that you’re learning a lot. I hope that you are finding time to enjoy yourself in other ways, despite all the delightful scholastic opportunities there to distract you._

_I have a huge favor to ask of you. My mother’s birthday is Sunday, May 7, and I always have tea with her. I’m out of the country, however, and I have just learned that I won’t be home in time to be with her. I’m slightly devastated, but she took the news well. If you’ve other plans, please don’t change them, but I had the thought that, if you weren’t busy, you could stop in and join her for the occasion in my place._

_I’ve included a gift for her, but I’d like you to open it and test it out with me. It’s a special two-way journal. Whatever you write in it, I will see in my half of the set. International mail can be rather slow, and I’m afraid I’ll be away quite a bit in the near future. Since the magical community has yet to develop such communication technology as a mobile phone, I think this is the best way for her to reach me should she need me while I’m away. I want to ensure it works over the long distance before I give it to her._

_When you have considered my request about tea Sunday, you can give me your response via the journal._

_Again, I hope you’re having a wonderful time. Say hello to Paris for me._

_Sincerely,  
Draco_

Hermione opened the package with reverence. The journal was beautiful: leather-bound with gilded edging. On the cover was a songbird, drawn in gold. There were pages for normal writing and one special page designed for communication with the other journal. Hermione had been wary of magical journals ever since her second year at Hogwarts, when Ginny was given a journal embedded with a fragment of Voldemort’s soul in it and nearly died, but she also knew of the existence of journals like this one. 

And she trusted Draco.

With a quick glance to make sure no one was paying her any attention, she took out her quill and began to write. 

_Hello?_

The word disappeared as though melting into the page. She waited for a few minutes, but nothing appeared. Disappointed, she tucked the journal into her bag so that she could get to her next session on time.

Twenty minutes into a round table discussion about the pros and cons of monitoring international travel of magical creatures who had the agency to do so, she saw a pulse of soft light from inside her bag. Curious, she pulled out the journal and was surprised to find that the bird design was now glowing. When she opened it, she saw Draco’s handwriting on the magic page. She smiled at the clever magic.

> **Forgive me. I was in a meeting. If you’re able, will you reply right away, so that I might know the speed at which the messages travel?**

Hermione hesitated. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself, and she didn’t want to make the journal glow again because it might be a distraction. After only a moment’s indecision, however, she wrote a response. 

_Can’t talk now. I’ll be free in twenty minutes._

Her words disappeared just as they had before. She closed the book and put it away, burying it under her sweater so that if it glowed again, she wouldn’t see it and be tempted to reply. 

Once the session let out, she ducked out of a side door and hurried to a café down the street, feeling only slightly guilty at abandoning Astoria. She sat at the first table she found and pulled it out once again. 

Draco had already replied. 

> **That was pretty quick, but I would like to have an actual conversation. Please let me know when you’d be available for this. I know it’s asking a lot, and I really appreciate your time.**

Hermione smiled and wrote her reply. 

_I’m sitting in a café, sipping a delicious cup of hot tea, a box of macarons open on the table. I passed a beautiful magnolia tree on my way here. I want to pick a few blossoms for my hotel room. I’ve got fifteen minutes before I need to be back. Oh, it’s two-thirty here._

She bit into a lavender macaron and sighed at the delightful sensation of the flavors bursting on her tongue. She truly hoped that Draco would see her message and reply so they could communicate in real time. If it worked, it would be almost like talking on a telephone. 

After five minutes, she was beginning to lose hope. She was down to only three macarons left of the six she’d bought. She knew Draco was very fond of sweets and wondered if he had ever experienced the French delicacy. She went to the cashier and took a menu so she could peruse it while she waited. When she returned, she was delighted to see that he had responded. 

> **Give me two minutes.**

Hermione grinned and sat down, taking a sip of her tea. She picked up her quill, ready to reply. Less than two minutes later, more writing appeared. 

> **All right. I’m ready. Are you?**

_Yes!_

> **Good. How’s the conference?**

_Oh! It’s really good so far. Very interesting. I’m learning a lot._

> **That’s fantastic. This journal is working nicely. I think the only lag time is the time it takes us to actually write something.**

_I agree. I think it’s a lovely gift, Draco._

> **Speaking of gifts. Have you thought of my request? I hesitated for a long while before deciding to ask you. Please don’t think I did it lightly; I know you’re in Paris, and you’ll have just returned home. I know it’s asking a lot, but Mother much prefers your company to… well, anyone else I could think of.**

Hermione had debated this, but only for a minute or two. She’d planned to spend Sunday in Paris, but she could simply shorten her trip and go straight from the International Portkey station in Paris to Malfoy Manor. 

_Yes, Draco, I’d love to have tea with your mother Sunday._

> **Thank you! Merlin, Hermione, I can’t tell you how happy this makes me. I will make it up to you.**

She couldn’t help the wide grin at the thought that she’d pleased him so much. 

_Don’t be silly. Your mother happens to be my friend; it’s not as though you’re asking me to have dinner with my sworn enemy._

> **That’s true. But I’m almost certain you had other plans. Don’t you usually go to The Burrow on Sundays?**

_Yes, but I wasn’t going this Sunday._

> **You won’t be too tired from your trip?**

_Draco. I’m going. Leave it be! Tell me about where you are. What’s got you going out of the country so much? Harry mentioned it. He basically whined at the thought of having to write the reports without you._

> **I laughed out loud at that mental picture. Potter’s voice sounded a bit like Trelawney’s in my head. It was priceless. I’m in Iran, working on something, but that’s all I can say about it right now.**

_Iran? How unusual. To my knowledge, the foundation doesn’t have any connections there._

> **You’re quite correct. This isn’t foundation business.**

She waited, hoping he would say more, but he didn’t. 

_When will you be home?_

> **Monday. Tell me something about the conference.**

Hermione bit her lip, glancing around the café as though something there would give her an idea of what to say. 

_Oh, here’s something. I’ve really enjoyed learning about the magical creatures native to the African continent. Magical creatures are just like non-magical ones, in that they are extremely diverse—though less numerous—throughout the world, with certain species only found in certain places. I’ve attended two breakout sessions about them._

> **Aren’t you there for some policy reasons?**

_Yes, certainly. But those sessions are not terribly interesting. They’re necessary but rather tedious._

> **Ah. That’s understandable.**

_I try to find a good balance between the dry subjects and things that I really want to learn. For every boring lecture, I get to learn something fun._

> **I’m glad that there are so many options.**

_Where are you, right now? This café—a patisserie, really—is in the magical part of Paris. Across the street is a boulangerie, where I’ll have to stop to pick up a baguette. It’s a lovely spring day; there are hundreds of flowers in bloom in planters all along the way._

> **I’m in a hotel room. It’s dark here. I’m at a desk by the window, looking out over a garden. In the distance, I see mountains. I know that I’ll have a difficult time getting to sleep tonight because my body isn’t used to the time, so I might take a potion. However, I’ve got a meeting in the morning, so I don’t want to risk oversleeping with a potion.**

_I see._

She wasn’t quite sure what to say next, but since she desperately wanted to keep writing, she fished about for some other topic. Thankfully, his elegant script appeared after just a minute and she smiled. 

> **Have you made any new connections?**

_Such a Slytherin thing to say._

> **Very funny. But I know what those conferences are all about. Sure, you’ll learn a few things here and there, but it’s all about making friends in new, high places. You know that’s so much of what I do for the foundation. Every person I encounter is a potential resource.**

_I know. I struggle with that because I wish it weren’t so for you. I wish that you could approach new people as they’re meant to be: potential friends._

> **I’ve got quite enough friends, Hermione. I probably have more than I can truly handle, considering the work I do.**

_And yet you’re branching out into new kinds of relationships?_

She immediately regretted the question and let out a soft gasp. The last thing she really wanted was for him to talk about dating—why oh why had she asked him so many questions about it before? Hurriedly, she wrote the first thing that came to mind in the hopes of distracting him from the hasty question. 

_Oh, Astoria is here._

He didn’t respond for a long time, and Hermione started to panic. Had she offended him? 

> **I hadn’t considered that she might be, but I suppose that makes sense.**

_She was invited to speak. I believe her session is tomorrow. It’s not a full lecture, in front of the whole conference, merely a breakout session. I haven’t decided if I’ll attend or not. She’s been sticking pretty close to me since we bumped into each other the first day._

That was an understatement. 

> **She’s pleasant enough to be around.**

Hermione cringed. It was clear, reading between the lines, that he did not want to talk about his one-time date. Grasping again for something to say, she absently twirled the quill between her fingers. Then she decided, _screw it_ , and went with what was on her mind. 

_She is. I’m the only person she knows and I think that’s scary for her. I forget that she’s a good bit younger than me. At first, I was a little put out, not really wanting a shadow for the entire time, but I’m getting to know her. The part she shares with me, anyway. I’m sure there’s much she keeps to herself. I forced her to ride the Metro with me. That was kind of fun, watching her experience something in the Muggle world for the first time. I know that I was enamoured with the magical world and I’m sure I annoyed every single pureblood at Hogwarts with my constant delight that first year._

> **If anyone was annoyed, they were the losing party. Myself included. And I…**

He didn’t write anything for a solid minute, and Hermione waited impatiently for him to continue. 

> **She is lucky to have you there. I don’t think you’re wrong in your general assessment. I doubt very much that she would open up to anyone. It’s true that those of us steeped in pureblood traditions are encouraged to keep our thoughts and feelings close. I’ve known her much of my life and still barely know her.**

_Well, there’s something to be said for using discretion in what you reveal about yourself. There’s danger in going too far the other way, as well._

> **From my vantage point, I find it has been freeing to allow myself to feel things that I’d been raised not to feel. Giving my mind the freedom to roam where it may has proven to give me greater depth of thought, greater understanding. I might come up with the same conclusion I was taught to believe, but at least I got there through a wider path.**

Hermione’s heart felt like bursting. Seeing Draco’s words on the page, reading his innermost thoughts, words straight from his heart, was almost too much. How had she only just noticed how incredible he was, how thoughtful? It wasn’t as though this was new for him. He’d been showing her pieces of his character, his soul, for years now. 

It wasn’t fair. Draco was the least accessible person to her; sure, she was in his world and friends with his mother, but there was no chance he’d think of her in that way. Even if her blood status no longer mattered, she couldn’t see a single thing she had in common with any of the polished socialites he’d dated in the past, Astoria included. 

> **You know many of my beliefs have changed. Please tell me you know this.**

Hermione realized she’d not responded for a few minutes. 

_Yes! Absolutely. I apologize, my thoughts wandered. I do know, Draco. We’ve had many conversations about them._

> **And those conversations have been instrumental in many of those changes.**

_I’m glad that you’ve trusted me enough as a friend to let me be part of your journey._

Someone bumped into her table, jostling her now empty teacup. “Oh! I’m so sorry!” A waitress gave her an apologetic look. 

“It’s quite alright.” Hermione smiled, then her gaze fell on a clock behind the counter. She gasped; she was half an hour late! Quickly, she gathered her things. 

When she looked back at the journal, Draco had written. 

> **I am thankful for your friendship.**

She smiled, her heart clenching in a bittersweet way. Yes, they were friends. Safe. Steady. Friends. But she needed to go. 

_Draco, I’m very late. I’m so sorry, I got caught up in this conversation. I can write more later.”_

Without waiting for a reply, she put the journal in her bag with the rest of her things, including the macaron menu, and hurried out of the café. 

**Saturday, MAY 6**

By the time lunch rolled around, Hermione’s brain felt completely fried. The conference was very full, with nearly every moment scheduled, and little time for relaxing and processing what she’d learned. She was well and truly ready for a long soak in the bathtub in her hotel room, thinking about nothing. 

After lunch, there would be one final lecture, then some awards given for presentations and research done over the previous year, then they would be dismissed. She had every reason to believe that by four—three-thirty, possibly—she’d be soaking in bubbles with a glass of white wine. 

She’d grown to grudgingly like Astoria, though she knew they’d never be great friends. Astoria was too timid, too hesitant to try new things or think outside of her prescribed boxes. But she was smart and ambitious, and Hermione liked her despite her inclination not to. That was only because the woman was so clearly in love with Draco. Or at least, in love with the idea of him. Draco was, Hermione knew, quite the catch, and not just in pureblood circles. Any witch on whom he bestowed his affections would have to be someone ridiculously special. Hermione knew she couldn’t come close to the kind of woman she imagined would win Draco’s heart. She only hoped she’d be well over him by the time that happened. 

She and Draco had communicated a handful of times through the journal since that first day, but she got the impression he was very busy. 

“Let’s go find another amazing restaurant. Only this time, it’s my treat, and we’re staying in wizarding Paris,” Astoria said, practically dragging Hermione through the lobby, toward the welcoming sunshine. 

Hermione laughed. “All right! No need to wrench my arm out of socket!” 

The warmth of the sun enveloped them as they left the hotel, and Hermione shut her eyes to bask in its rays for a few long seconds. Then she felt Astoria pulling at her once again. 

They walked briskly down the street, Astoria talking all the while about what she found most interesting about the lecture they’d just attended. Hermione commented here and there, trying to listen while also attempting to enjoy their surroundings. 

After they were seated and had started eating, they noticed a group of witches sitting at the table beside theirs. They were hunched over what looked like a newspaper, and they were laughing and pointing and tittering. 

“I wonder what that’s about?” Astoria asked conspiratorially. 

Hermione stood and walked toward the table, making her way to the side board, ostensibly for a refill of her tea. A quick glance showed her that the women were looking at an issue of _La Sorcière du Monde_ , the French equivalent of _Witch Weekly_. She didn’t see anything more than the title, but she carried her news back to Astoria with her fresh cup of tea. 

“Well?” 

“It’s the weekly gossip paper. It must have been printed today.” Hermione shrugged. She had about as much use for this French publication as for its counterpart at home: none. 

“I can’t believe we go home today. I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed!” Astoria smiled dreamily. “And I like French food in moderation, but I can’t wait to eat a real steak and kidney pie again!” 

“I’m staying one more night. I’ve got some sightseeing I plan to do tomorrow.” 

Astoria’s eyes widened. “Oh? That sounds deliciously fun! What are you planning to see?” 

She had to tread carefully. She didn’t want Astoria to join her for this part, and she knew Astoria had all the means necessary to change her plans and extend her time in Paris. “Oh, I want to spend all morning at the Louvre. It’s a Muggle art museum. I could spend hours in the Impressionist section alone, to say nothing of the other thousands of pieces of art. I’m hoping to get to the Musee d’Orsay tonight; they have a lot of post-Impressionist and modern art on display. And I haven’t decided yet, but there’s a fabulous book shop near Notre Dame that I want to visit as well.” 

It was clear Astoria didn’t know quite what to think. “Muggle art?” 

Hermione nodded and sipped from her cup. “It’s like magical art, but it doesn’t move. Magical art never really expanded beyond realism, since most of what is painted is portraiture. I find Cubism to be just fascinating.” She didn’t really, but she was trying to make Muggle art sound bizarre and dreadful so that Astoria wouldn’t be tempted to join her. 

“It all sounds fascinating. I wish I could join you, but Mother wants me home for a surprise dinner she’s throwing for Narcissa tomorrow night.” 

“Oh?” Hermione was instantly a little anxious. 

“It’s her birthday and mother simply adores Narcissa. She’s invited her over for dinner tomorrow night, but Narcissa thinks it’s just to be the two of them. Actually, all of Narcissa’s friends will be there!” She clapped her hands in apparent joy. “I’m so looking forward to it. And if word gets back to Draco….” Astoria trailed off as the table beside them cleared. 

The women trailed through the restaurant and out the door, all chattering and laughing, and to Hermione’s surprise, they left the magazine they’d been looking at. Astoria met her gaze and winked, waving her wand a little to indicate that she’d cast a spell to cause them to forget it. 

Hermione shook her head but smiled and went to retrieve the paper. She glanced at the cover and her smile instantly dropped. There, splashed across the front page, was a picture of Draco with a woman on his arm. The two-inch headline read: “Malfoy heir finds love?” The by-line said: “Draco Malfoy has been spotted in India with Sania Reddy, Headmistress of one of the fifteen Schools of Magic in India this weekend.” 

“What?” Astoria asked, her face pale and all mirth gone. 

“It’s nothing.” Hermione rolled up the paper and tried to burn it, but Astoria grabbed it from her. 

She dropped into her chair, dejection written across her lovely face. 

Hermione returned to her seat, her thoughts a flutter, as Astoria quickly skimmed the article. When she opened the paper to continue reading, she groaned. “There are more pictures.” 

Curiosity got the better of Hermione, and she motioned for Astoria to let her see. There were three more photos showing Draco with the woman, all taken at the same event. While they didn’t show anything intimate, such as a kiss or even the pair holding hands, they did show two people who were clearly enjoying themselves together. There was even one of Draco whispering something in the woman’s ear and her laughing. 

“He really meant it, didn’t he?” Astoria’s voice was barely above a whisper, one hand loosely touching her lips as she continued to read. 

“Meant what?” 

“That he doesn’t fancy me. He never acted like that around me in all the years I’ve known him.” 

Despite her own discomfort over the pictures and the accompanying article, which she had yet to actually read and likely wouldn’t, Hermione knew that Astoria was far more devastated than she was. Tears welled in the younger woman’s eyes, and Hermione reached over to squeeze her wrist. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, it’s… it’s okay.” Astoria closed the paper and set it back on the table where the group of witches had been sitting. “He never lied to me. The article was what you’d expect: full of endless speculation, nothing concrete. But the fact remains that he’s in India, with some woman, and he appears very happy. I can’t remember ever seeing him smile like that.” 

Hermione’s own heart wrenched. She had, plenty of times. She’d always felt a special privilege at being allowed that glimpse into his inner self. She hesitated, but then took the paper back and opened it. No, the smile wasn’t quite the one she’d seen on him dozens of times. He was still reserved in these photos, and despite knowing that Draco was not for her, it made her feel a little better. 

“I’m ready to go.” Astoria listlessly gathered her purse and stood. 

“Like you said, there’s nothing definitive in here.” Hermione felt an odd compulsion to try and assuage Astoria’s fears, even though she knew that Draco wasn’t likely to ask her out again. Nothing was certain, though, so she couldn’t say with absolute conviction that Draco was finished with Astoria. “And these pictures could easily be explained as some sort of business interaction. They don’t tell the full story. But even if they do, if he is seeing this woman, then—” 

“Then he’s completely within his rights and owes me nothing. I know.” Astoria glared at Hermione and walked away with a huff. 

Hermione followed after her, finding her waiting outside on the sidewalk. 

“I’m sorry. I just… I’m not ready to give up, you know?” Astoria frowned deeply. “I… I love him. And I won’t give up. He’ll see. He’ll hear about this dinner for his mother and—” 

“Astoria.” Hermione took her arm and gently shook her. “If Draco isn’t interested, I know that hurts, but you can’t force it. We just talked about this earlier this week. Remember? All you can do is be yourself. If his feelings toward you are going to change, it will be because something in _him_ changes. Not because of anything you do.” 

It looked as though Astoria would argue, but after a moment, she let her shoulders droop. “You’re right. Of course. I have just waited so patiently for him to notice me! I’ve turned down dozens of other wizards because I knew, absolutely, in the deepest part of my heart, that Draco and I would get together, get married, be happy together forever. I hate to think I’ve wasted all of it!” 

They started walking back toward the hotel. “It wasn’t a waste, Astoria. Every day, you’ve become the woman you are. And who you are, right now, will attract the right person. If Draco doesn’t see it, then he isn’t the right one for you. You must have faith and be content in who you are.” 

Astoria linked arms with Hermione and they walked in silence for a couple of blocks. “I know you’re right. Everyone has told me to move on. Maybe I just needed to see him with someone, you know? He’s not dated anyone seriously since Pansy, and that was ages ago.” She sighed. “Maybe what I need is to see someone.” 

“That’s the spirit.” Hermione smiled at her. “Someone out there will be just what you’re looking for.” 

They talked of insignificant matters for the rest of the walk, and as they settled in for the closing of the conference, Hermione wondered what part, if any, of her advice she needed to take. She hadn’t been in love with Draco for years, of course, but her reactions to seeing him with Astoria at the fundraiser, and then again in the paper with someone else, were essentially the same. She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. Oh, if only she could go back to her life before Pansy had ever said anything about the two of them! She was certain that was when it had started. The conscious effort of not thinking about what Pansy had said had resulted in her inadvertently thinking about Draco— _a lot_. From there, everything cascaded, culminating in the realization that she cared for him far more deeply than just a friend. 

****

**Sunday, MAY 7**

> **Good morning.**

Hermione didn’t notice the message until she was packing her things, preparing to check out of her hotel. Rather than sight-seeing the night before, she’d enjoyed the long soak she’d planned, then took a leisurely stroll through the Muggle neighborhoods around the magical one. Paris was magical everywhere, and her evening had been no exception. 

She’d slept in, allowing herself to really rest. It was a skill she’d been developing since the new year, an unintended but much welcomed result of trimming her schedule back to the bare bones. All the space in her calendar left her space for so many other things—including the space to do nothing “productive.” She was learning that those times could be vastly more beneficial than busy ones. 

As she packed the few books she’d brought, she noticed the glowing bird design on the journal, her heart quickening as she opened it. She wondered briefly if there was any record of her conversation with Draco from before, but it was gone, replaced by a new message. She smiled instantly, though she had no idea how old it was. 

Grabbing a quill, she hastily replied. 

_Hello! I suppose I don’t know what time of day it is where you are._

She set the book open on the bed and continued packing, glancing at it every now and then to see if he might respond. Finally, he did. 

> **It’s late afternoon. I’m in India and very much looking forward to going home.**

Hermione debated asking about the newspaper article but decided against it. It was none of her business, and if he wanted to tell her, he would. 

_India! Weren’t you in Iran?_

> **I’ve had a busy long weekend. More travel than I’m used to. I’ve told my mother to expect a guest for tea today. She doesn’t know it’s you; I thought it would be a fun surprise for her.**

_Wonderful. I’m about to leave the hotel._

> **Thank you again, Hermione. I hate missing her birthday.**

_I’m very happy to do it. And I hate to do this, but I’ve got to go. I’m stopping by the Louvre after leaving here, and I’ve got a Portkey scheduled for two o’clock out of the city. I’m hoping to get in a few hours looking at art._

> **Remember, I will make this up to you.**

_Make what up?_

> **Don’t think I didn’t read between the lines. I’m sure you had to change your plans to do me this favor.**

_You’re right, I am, but honestly, Draco, I’m so exhausted that I’m quite relieved to be heading home earlier than I’d originally planned. Tea with your mother will be just the thing I need before I get to my flat and fall asleep the second I reach my bed._

She finished shrinking everything to fit in her bag, did one last check of the room, and left. She carried the journal and a quill with her so that she could continue her conversation. 

> **Rest well-deserved. I really can’t thank you enough.**

_I’m thanked plenty. I mean it. See you later, Draco._

She tucked the journal into her bag and headed out into the city. 

**ooo**

“Oh! Hermione! What a lovely surprise!” Narcissa beamed as she opened the front door wide.

Hermione smiled and they embraced briefly. “I’m glad you’re pleased.”

“Draco told me he was sending someone to have tea with me, but never in my wildest dreams would I have thought he’d send you! I knew you were away most of this past week.” Narcissa led her to her favorite sitting room, and Hermione saw a beautiful tea service prepared. Shining silver trays were piled high with an assortment of delicacies, and the fanciest silver tea set Hermione had ever seen practically shone on one side of the table. A large arrangement of fresh flowers sat on a table beside the tea setup, and there were flowers on almost every surface in the room. 

“What do you think?” Narcissa motioned toward the room. “Draco arranged everything with the house-elves to surprise me. It’s absolutely stunning. His attention to detail is unparalleled. Though, perhaps I’m a bit biased.” She was beaming, pride in her only son evident.

“It’s breathtaking.” Hermione leisurely scanned the room and noticed some of the flowers he’d told her were his favorite. She smiled. There were also peonies in nearly every arrangement, and at her place at the table, there was a bud vase containing a pale pink peony and a bloom from a magnolia tree. He really had thought of everything. Despite the beauty of the room, that long, solitary flower made her heart skip a beat. But no, it certainly didn’t mean anything, only that he was a good friend who remembered her favorite flower. 

Narcissa was watching her closely, a scrutinizing glint in her eyes that was gone as quickly as Hermione blinked, making her doubt what she’d seen. “Shall we?” In a long, pale blue gown, Narcissa elegantly glided into her seat and spread her napkin in her lap.

Hermione sat down as well. She’d chosen to wear the nicest dress she’d taken to Paris, the one she’d worn the night of the fanciest dinner, yet she still felt underdressed beside her hostess. “Happy birthday, Narcissa.”

“Thank you, my dear.” Narcissa began serving the tea. “How do you take yours?”

“A dash of milk, no sugar, please.” 

“Ah, yes, I knew that. It’s such a habit to ask that I didn’t stop to think.” She poured Hermione’s cup and then set to work on her own. Once both cups were steeping, Narcissa began with the sandwiches. “How was your conference? You’re not too worn out, I hope.”

Hermione shook her head. “Not at all. I had a very relaxing morning. The conference was wonderful. I learned a lot.” Then she scowled, unable to stop herself. “Though I did learn something near the end that has me quite upset.”

“Oh?” 

“Did you know that the Quidditch League of England is trying to finagle their way into buying part of the protected pixie forest for a new stadium?” Her blood was already boiling again over the outrageous news. 

Narcissa raised a patrician eyebrow. “I hadn’t heard that. I take it you’re displeased.”

“That’s putting it mildly.” Hermione clenched her fists tightly in her lap. “That protected forest is vital to their well-being! The pixie community fought hard for that small corner of the forest, and now the Quidditch League wants to clear it out! Where will they go? From what I heard, which was nothing official, just rumors, nobody seems very concerned about that. I’m not really surprised; after all, this is Quidditch we’re talking about.” She rolled her eyes. “If the Quidditch league wants something, then by all means, let’s mow down all the forests in England. Nobody needs those, after all. Not when there are stadiums to be built.”

After her little rant, Hermione immediately blushed. “Oh, Narcissa, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to go on like that. I can just get so worked up over things like this.”

“It’s absolutely fine, dear. I don’t mind at all.” She smiled comfortingly and gave Hermione’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Is there anything I can do?”

Slightly surprised at the offer, Hermione blinked rapidly a few times. “Oh, um, I don’t really know. I’ve not thought about it. I know that my department will be involved. I know that I want to fight it, but it’s going to be a nightmare. That particular forest is the ideal location for the pixies. Unfortunately, part of what makes it so great for them also makes it a good place to build a Quidditch stadium. But really, their needs are far more pressing, their situation more delicate. I have hope that the Ministry will hear me, though. A sound, logical argument should be all that’s required. I’m afraid it will take much of this month to prepare, however. I’ll be inquiring about it first thing tomorrow.”

“Do let me know if I can help.” 

“Thank you.” She highly doubted she’d reach out to Narcissa, but she greatly appreciated the offer. “Do you have any other plans for today?” 

Narcissa’s smile became tight and thin. “As a matter of fact, I do. I’ve been invited to the Greengrass home for dinner with Livinia and her girls. With Draco out of the country, I couldn’t find a way to say no.”

Hermione laughed.

“Don’t get me wrong, Livinia is a friend, but every time she reaches out to me, I sense ulterior motives. I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve done the same, many times, but honestly.” She huffed lightly. “If dinner were only with Livinia, that would be one thing, but I can’t help but suspect that Astoria is hoping to worm her way into my good graces and nudge my son her direction.” Narcissa took a calming breath. “I am quite familiar with the dance, but the song has long ended. Draco told Astoria that he’s not interested.”

Hermione was once again reminded how shrewd the woman before her was. Astoria had been hoping for exactly what Narcissa mentioned. “She was at the conference. Astoria. I saw her quite a bit.”

“Oh? That’s surprising. Usually they don’t let her out of their sight. After Daphne’s lackluster marriage to Adrian Pucey, and their older sister, Eliza, marrying well but failing to produce an heir, all of the family’s hopes are now pinned on that poor girl. I do feel for her, Hermione. I sympathize with her plight, but there are plenty of other young men on whom she might set her sights.”

“I believe she genuinely cares for him.” At Narcissa’s surprised expression, Hermione hurried to clarify. “I mean, as much as she can, considering everything you’ve just said. I don’t think she truly knows what she wants or who she is. Her life is so guided by forces outside her control that I think she’s taken to believing that what her family says is best is also what she wants. I feel deeply for her and wish that she could break free from such impossible expectations. She and I will never be great friends, but I will never stop wanting the same freedom for her that I have. She deserves the opportunity to make her own choices and go her own way in life.”

Narcissa’s expression softened. “Hermione, dear, you are one of my favorite people in the whole world. Your generous nature is such a breath of fresh air after the life I’ve lived. Now, my social circles are all aflutter with rumors that you’re dating Marcus Flint. Do tell me everything.”

**Saturday, MAY 13  
**   
An explosion of sound hit Hermione as she entered the pub. It was after eleven, but since the Quidditch game between Puddlemere and Holyhead had only just ended, she wasn’t surprised to find the pub full. Almost everyone was sporting some sort of paraphernalia, though most of the room seemed to favor the Harpies. 

Ginny pulled her toward the back where they’d reserved a table. Pansy, Ron, Harry, Marcus, Neville, Hannah, George, and Luna followed. She ended up between Marcus and Luna, with the men on one side of the table and the women on the other. Since she and Marcus were newly coupled, they were allowed to sit together. 

“Did you see that move in the first hour by Dorset?” Ron used his hands to imitate the moves made by Dorset and the Puddlemere United player she’d outmaneuvered. 

“I thought Josiah’s move in the third hour was more technically difficult.” Harry used some forks to demonstrate.

Marcus, not to be outdone, set up a model pitch on the table using salt and pepper shakers, napkins, and utensils. “When Johnson executed that barrel roll to evade Simpson, I thought I’d lose my voice from shouting.”

“I particularly enjoyed seeing Simpson nearly crash into the stands because he was distracted by Maggie Dippit’s Dionysus Dive near the end.” With his wand, George set the utensils in motion, recreating the moment to the enjoyment of all. 

Hermione shook her head. Ginny was gazing wistfully at the men’s antics, and Hermione knew she wished she were close enough to join in the analysis. Neville sat opposite Ginny, sandwiched between Harry and George, his expression resigned. It would likely be at least twenty minutes before the Quidditch talk subsided. While Neville enjoyed the sport, he didn’t especially want to dissect every move in the hours following the match. He mostly joined them for games because he wanted to be with his friends, and he knew that there would be a lengthy conversation once it was over. 

Though Marcus was wholly engrossed, his body turned slightly away from her as he enthusiastically recounted the match, it was nice knowing he was there. They sat close enough that his thigh was pressed against hers, and whenever he moved—which he did quite a bit in animated motions—some part of him brushed some part of her. 

Nothing about the conversation at her end of the table was especially interesting; it was impossible to talk about anything weighty or important while shouting to be heard in a noisy pub. Occasionally, she’d drift out of that end and listen in to what the men were saying. She didn’t care about the Quidditch talk, of course, but she enjoyed hearing Marcus’ voice, and got a thrill at the fact that her friends had seemingly welcomed him completely. At least, so far as attending a match together went. 

When the food finally arrived, half an hour after it was ordered due to being so busy, the separate lines of discussion dissolved and smaller conversations erupted. It was chaotic and so very loud. Hermione enjoyed it immensely, especially when Marcus found her hand under the table and twined his fingers with hers, all while continuing to talk to George about a previous Slytherin-Gryffindor game that predated her arrival at Hogwarts. 

Eventually, exhaustion started to creep in. The game had lasted for six hours, and they’d gone directly from there to the pub. She found herself leaning on Marcus’ shoulder, talking less and yawning more. When she felt herself nod off, head drooping forward, she jerked up and blinked. “I’m done for. If I don’t get home, you’ll have to Levitate me out of here, and I don’t fancy you trying to put me through a Floo that way.”

Marcus jumped up to help her stand, and Hermione thought she saw something like delight flash in his eyes. For a moment, she panicked. It was their third date, but she wasn’t anywhere near ready for what she suspected he was hoping for. No. If there was one thing she firmly believed, it was that she shouldn’t sleep with someone when she had feelings—however impossible, slight, or confusing—for someone else. 

They said goodnight to everyone, then made their way to the fireplace. Marcus climbed in with her, and she shouted their destination. Thirty seconds later, they arrived in her living room. Unaccustomed to Floo travel with someone else, she stumbled a bit. Marcus caught her wrist to steady her, then pulled her flush against him and kissed her. Hermione sighed and kissed him back, allowing herself a few minutes of heavy snogging before she sent him on his way. 

When she thought they’d kissed long enough, she put her hands in his chest and gently pushed away. He groaned. 

“Hermione,” he rasped, his voice almost pleading.

“Not tonight, Marcus.” She smiled, somewhat apologetically. However, she was under no obligation to him. “I am exhausted and really want to sleep.”

He sighed deeply, kissed her once more, then nodded. “Can’t blame a bloke for trying.” He gave her such a familiar smirk that she wondered if all Slytherins practiced it in front of the mirror. “Good night, Hermione.” He stepped back into the fireplace and was soon swallowed up in green flames. 

Hermione yawned and didn’t bother changing clothes. She cleaned her teeth magically; her body was physically aching from being tired. Within a minute of collapsing into bed, she was asleep. 

**Friday, MAY 19**

Hermione had just sat down at the table where she and Harry always had lunch when someone dropped into the seat across from her. Expecting it to be Harry, she looked up with a smile, only to be startled to see Draco sitting there. She didn’t bother trying to hide the ridiculous grin that leapt onto her face.

“Draco!”

He smiled easily. “Hey. Harry asked me to come tell you that he got stuck in a meeting and won’t be able to join you.”

“I see. Well, all right. Thanks for telling me. Where’s your lunch?”

“Oh, well, I usually nip home for lunch, when I can. Otherwise I have it delivered.”

Hermione glanced at the queue. “You could stay and have lunch with me, since Harry can’t.” She tried to say it casually, but she could hardly breathe for hoping he’d say yes. He, too, examined the queue. “It’s not bad, really. You’ll be through in less than seven minutes.”

He smirked. “Seven?”

“Seven.” She grinned back at him, her entire being filling with a sense of giddy excitement. 

“All right. You seem to have found something to eat that isn’t wholly substandard.” He left her and joined the people waiting to select their food.

While he was away, Hermione tried to force her heart to stop pounding. She realized she hadn’t seen him since the night they’d gone to celebrate the case he and Harry had closed. A few glimpses in the halls at work didn’t count. How had that happened? It was true she’d let her April calendar fill too much; the last two weeks fairly flew by. And May had already been quite busy, with the conference and a few other things, but she usually saw him outside of the Ministry on a somewhat regular basis.

He returned and gave her an appreciative nod. “Six minutes, thirty-two seconds. I’m impressed.”

“I’ve had a lot of experience.” She eyed his dishes. “Ooh, that looks good, I didn’t notice the fish!”

“I think they just put it out. A fresh tray, at least.” He gave his meal a slight prod, as though to make sure it was what it claimed to be. 

“Don’t eat in a cafeteria often?” she asked with a laugh. 

“I, er, well, no.” He took a deep breath, forked a bit of the fish, and took a bite. After a few chews, he gave a satisfactory nod. “I’ve had worse.”

The next few bites were eaten in silence. Hermione had to work up the courage to ask the question that had been on her mind for weeks. “Harry says you’ve taken some time off work but you won’t tell him why.”

Draco held her gaze for a moment, then dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “That’s correct. I’ve been working on a project that has me traveling a fair bit. But that’s all I’m going to say. Even to you.”

She eyed him curiously and considered pressing him, but there was something about the way he’d spoken, the way he carried himself, that was just the slightest bit different. It only made her more curious, so it was with some effort that she forced her thoughts in another direction. 

“Are you and your mother enjoying the two-way journal?” 

He nodded in excitement while he finished his bite. “Very much. Thank you again for having tea with her. I know she enjoyed herself.”

“You’ve already thanked me enough.” He’d sent her a long note of thanks, accompanied by a single peony blossom. “I’m only glad you listened when I insisted you not do anything else. A thank you gift would suggest that I didn’t want to have tea with her, or that it was some odious chore you’d thrust upon me.” 

“She’s mentioned your visit almost every time I’ve seen her since. Next year, she might prefer your company to mine.” 

Hermione laughed. “That’s not possible. You are her favorite person in the whole world.”

He grinned. “Maybe so, but you might be a close second. But enough about that; I doubt we’ll ever agree. How is your work going? Tell me more about your conference earlier this month.”

“Yes, I did, and it was lovely. There’s so much work being done all around the world to improve the lives of other magical creatures. It was fascinating.” She paused, frowning. “I did hear something disturbing, though. Do you know anything about a new Quidditch Stadium?”

He shook his head, and she could tell his interest was piqued. “I overheard some wizards talking about it, and they spoke about being torn. On one hand, the conference was about magical creatures, and in theory everyone attending is connected to magical creatures in some way. On the other, it’s Quidditch.” She scowled, and she was about to launch into yet another colorful rant, but she decided against it. With a slight shake of her head, she pushed away the gloomy thoughts. 

“I went to Astoria’s talk. It wasn’t terrible.”

He nodded but made no other reaction. “How is she?”

“She seems in good spirits. She talked about you a good bit. I think she’s determined to win you back?” Hermione couldn’t go into detail about everything Astoria had said. Even though she would rather they didn’t get together, she felt Astoria had placed confidence in her and she wouldn’t betray it. 

Draco heaved a dramatic sigh. “I get the same feeling whenever I see her. It hasn’t been often since I told her there wouldn’t be a repeat date, but each instance has felt… heavy. It’s as though I can feel her trying to will me to change my mind. I really wish I had made a different choice for our first—and only—date. I simply do not have romantic feelings for her, and I don’t see that changing.”

“You’ve been honest with her, which is all you can do.”

“I don’t want to hurt her, but if she insists upon putting me in situations where I have to repeat myself…”

“That’s not your fault,” Hermione said. 

“She’s a lovely woman, but she isn’t right for me. I think she’d realize it too if she could see past the schoolgirl crush she’s had on me for years.”

“We are all fools in love, are we not?” Hermione loved quoting one of her favorite books. 

He looked at her, his eyes so intense it made her breath catch. “We certainly are.” Then his gaze returned to his lunch. “How was the Quidditch game? I was sorry to miss it. Who ended up going in my place?” 

“Harry gave me the ticket and suggested I invite Marcus. So I did.”

Draco froze mid-chew, then slowly resumed. “I can’t think of anyone better to give it to. Marcus loved being captain.” He moved his food around on his plate a bit, gathering his next bite. “How are things going with him?”

“Fine, just fine.”

“Just fine?” He raised an eyebrow skeptically. 

She huffed slightly. “Yes. It’s… fine. We manage to find things to talk about, though it’s a little strange not being able to discuss his work. It’s a very big part of his life, but he can’t talk about it. He can only speak in very vague terms. It makes it a challenge to talk because we don’t know each other well yet, and work is a natural topic of conversation when getting to know someone.”

“I recently read something that spoke of low marriage rates among Unspeakables, for that very reason.” Draco frowned slightly. “Or if they do marry, they tend to gravitate towards others in their department.”

“That’s fascinating,” Hermione said. “But also a little sad. Everybody needs someone in whom they can confide. Or talk about work, or discuss things going on...”

“Do you talk about your work?” Draco was nearly finished eating. 

Hermione finished her last bite thoughtfully, then set down her fork and leaned back in her chair. “You know, it’s interesting you ask that because I’ve come to a realization the last few weeks. Without the social aspect of my job—the dinner meetings, the social gathering sprinkled through the months—my job isn’t as enjoyable.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “I thought you loved your job.”

“I did too! But when left with just the job itself, it is easier to see what a waste of time so much of it is. There is so much bureaucracy, so many hurdles to cross, just to get anything started, not to mention the endless paperwork and reports and research required to get a bill introduced to the Wizengamot. I love those things to an extent, but we have only put two things before them this whole year. Two! And neither was adopted as written, the more recent one still going through the process of rewrites. The first was a shadow of what was meant by the time it passed, effectively rendering it useless.”

“I had no idea.”

Hermione scoffed. “I hadn’t any idea either, really. All of the doing, the busyness, hid the fact that we really weren’t doing anything. Then there’s the fact that nobody in the Ministry respects our work. Not even Marcus, I can tell. He hasn’t really said as much, but he doesn’t care about what I have to say when he does ask about my work.”

Draco frowned and scraped at something on the table. His focus was so intent that Hermione grew suspicious. 

“What?”

He sighed. “I shouldn’t say. I have no idea what he’s like now, and if I judge him on his behavior in school, I’m only giving myself rope to hang from.”

“Tell me. Please.”

He took a drink of water and pushed his tray away, folding his arms in front of him. “I will just say, none of us in Slytherin were raised to respect other magical creatures. I’d rather give him the benefit of the doubt and hope he’s grown up. Like we all have.”

“Astoria does. Care about magical creatures I mean.”

“She’s different.”

Hermione ignored the respectful way he’d said it and the twist of jealousy she felt. “How so?”

“Her whole family is. They weren’t raised the way the rest of us were.”

“Daphne didn’t seem to suffer for the difference.” 

Draco gave her a look. “Daphne was the prettiest girl in Slytherin. But she was kind, despite also being shrewd and ambitious. None of the girls wanted to be her enemy.” He was thoughtful for a moment. “Blaise also stayed out of it. He was popular and all the girls, all over the school, liked him. I think part of what made him so popular was how little he cared about what others thought, including those of us playing at being good little pureblood minions. He spent his younger years in Nigeria, so he had no interest in Voldemort or his ideals.” He chuckled, his expression distant, as though deep in a memory. “Blaise wanted to rule his own kingdom. I was so envious of him. Of his nonchalance, the cavalier way he spoke of things that, to me, were sacred. He wanted to date Ginny, which was anathema to a Slytherin, but he didn’t give a rat’s arse.”

Hermione already knew about Blaise’s interest in Ginny because Harry had overheard it. “You were rather popular, yourself, I seem to recall.” 

He shrugged. “In a way. With certain people. I certainly had no issue with the status quo. But then everything I’d been raised to believe rushed up at me faster than I could think—as much as I could think as a spoiled kid at sixteen—and before I could blink, I’d pledged allegiance to Voldemort. I let someone put a mark on me, brand me like a bloody cow.”

“You were young—” 

Draco held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t do this again, don’t try to make excuses for me. I was old enough. And we’ve had this conversation already, and no matter what anyone says, I maintain that I had some responsibility in the matter. I may have been scared out of my mind, but I believe I could have found a way. Even though I didn’t know it then, even though I couldn’t have imagined it, I should have found a way. Snape offered me help. I could have taken it.”

Hermione didn’t say anything. Any time this topic had come up before, Draco had refused to let himself off the hook completely. She struggled with it, knowing that he was partly right but also knowing that he’d been in a nearly impossible situation. But she respected him too much to argue about how she thought he should feel. He’d discussed it thoroughly with her once, back when he first started spending time with her and her friends. He’d apologized for everything that had happened between them, and she’d easily forgiven him. 

“I am sorry to hear that work is not something you can discuss freely with Marcus. As you said, everyone should have someone to confide in. Or even just someone to vent to about something that happened.”

“Yes!” she cried, slapping the table for emphasis. The sound echoed louder than she expected, and she glanced around the room to see that the cafeteria was essentially empty. Workers were busy putting chairs on tables so they could run a magical mop over the floor. She covered her mouth with her hand, grinning wildly at him. “Draco! We’re closing down the cafeteria!”

His responding smile was one of those that made her heart skip. “Guess we should get back to work.”

They quickly cleared their table and deposited their trash where it belonged. A worker gave them a very skeptical, unimpressed look as she took their trays. Hermione grinned as Draco lightly pulled her arm, leading her toward the lift. 

“Harry never stays this long,” she observed. 

Draco pushed the button to call the lift. “I’m probably missing a meeting right now.”

She gasped, horrified but laughing. “Isn’t that bad?”

“What are they going to do, fire me?” He shook his head with a confident smirk. “Potter and I are the best team they’ve got.”

Once the lift came, they both got on and pressed the buttons for their respective floors. She wondered briefly when she might see him again; he’d even taken a step back from Foundation things. “Will you be at the Manor tomorrow?”

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. “No, I won’t. What will I be missing?” 

“Oh, nothing really. Your mother and I are getting together to discuss something work related. About that new Quidditch stadium, actually. Wondered if I’d see you.”

“Ah, I see.” He smiled apologetically. “Unfortunately I’ve got other plans, but I’m sure she’s looking forward to it.” The bell dinged, indicating that they’d reached his floor. “Well, see you soon, Hermione.”

“Bye, Draco.” She gave him a small wave, feeling a heavy weight settle in her heart as he disappeared down the hall. She hadn’t quite realized it until he’d sat down to join her for lunch, but she now knew she’d missed him terribly. And with no idea when their paths would cross, she felt a surprising sense of loss.

**Saturday, MAY 27**

Diagon Alley was packed, but that wasn’t unusual for a Saturday evening. Hermione had spent the afternoon with Marcus, and their date had ended after tea. Now she had a little time to kill before she was due to join Ginny and Pansy for dinner. 

Marcus has been decidedly more physical that day—holding her hand, brushing against her, putting his arm around her—which Hermione supposed was a logical progression in their relationship. She didn’t know where they stood, but she was realizing that he had become attached to her far more quickly than she had to him. She wasn’t sure exactly how to navigate the situation. He was most certainly ready for more, physically speaking, but she most certainly was not. He hadn’t said anything about it, but she could tell. She’d been grateful for a reason to ask for an afternoon outing, instead of something at night, where something more might be expected. 

Of course, her pesky, persistent feelings for Draco weren’t disappearing on their own, even though she’d only seen him once in May. She suspected that had something to do with the slow progression of her relationship with Marcus. 

They’d been dating for over two months, if she counted the night in the pub when they met, but because of her strict social boundaries, they hadn’t seen each other very much in that time. After their date, Hermione was beginning to think Marcus wouldn’t be satisfied with the low frequency for much longer. However, if he wanted to be with her at all, he’d have to respect her wishes. She’d told him what she was doing with her schedule, that she’d deliberately trimmed it so she could choose the best ways to spend her time. 

His response had been to smirk and retort, “Well now you’ve got me to fill your time!”

She’d bristled slightly, but realized he was probably joking—mostly. Though it had been one of her intentions, at the beginning of the year, that in scaling back her commitments, she’d find time for romance. Instead, she was finding time to do things that truly made her soul sing. Little things, like her almost daily walks to the park down the street from her flat, a new favorite café, and fresh flowers in her home as often as possible. She was really enjoying her Magical Art classes, but she’d had to stop the cooking classes in April. They’d been too frequent and she’d started to feel that her calendar was too full. And that was infinitely better than romance, she thought. Or, at least, she wasn’t eager to fill her time with just anybody she was dating. No. She would stick to limiting her availability and if she found herself falling wildly in love with someone, only then would she reconsider. 

Hermione arrived at the restaurant where Ginny had made a reservation. She was a few minutes early, so she decided to wait outside for her friends. It was such a lovely evening, after all.

Pansy showed up very soon after Hermione, and she grinned, giving Hermione a quick hug. “You look nice. I’m guessing that dress isn’t for us.”

“No, I spent the afternoon with Marcus.” Hermione smiled.

Pansy quirked an eyebrow. “Things seem to be going well in that department.”

Hermione shrugged. “I think they are. Slow, but good.” She saw Ginny a few feet away, walking uncomfortably down the sidewalk. She was very pregnant and had one hand under her belly as though to support the weight. Hermione waved.

Ginny returned the gesture with a curt greeting, passing them on her way into the restaurant. “Let’s go. I’m hungry.”

Hermione and Pansy followed, and soon they were all seated and perusing the menu. 

“I want carbs.” Ginny set her menu down. “I’m just going to ask what dish has the most.”

Pansy frowned. “You should take care of yourself, Ginny. What goes on must come off.”

Ginny may have been over eight months pregnant, but her reflexes were as sharp as ever, and she lightly smacked Pansy’s hand with the flat edge of her knife. “That’s a terrible thing to say to a pregnant woman. I’d like to see you manage it when it’s your turn. Then come to me with tales of woe and misery and a hunger that never ends and see what sympathy you get.”

Someone came and took their orders, Ginny sticking her tongue out at Pansy after ordering a giant bowl of pasta with cream sauce. 

“Hermione had a date with Marcus today.” Pansy spoke as soon as the waiter left, clearly hoping to turn the conversation in another direction.

Ginny’s eyes widened and she rubbed her hands together. “Excellent. He’s very handsome. I like looking at his picture in the paper. So how are things?” Then she gasped. “Oh! We haven’t talked since the Quidditch game!”

Hermione bit her lip. “Yeah, I was thinking about that. What did you all think?”

Pansy and Ginny exchanged a look. 

“What?” Hermione demanded. “You two have already discussed this?”

“You haven’t been to The Burrow since then,” Pansy replied defensively. “What were we supposed to do? Wait for you?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Did everyone join this little chat?” When neither of them would look her in the eye, she huffed. “Fine. Everyone has talked about my dating life. Just lovely. So what’s the consensus?”

Again, they hesitated. Then Ginny spoke up. “We liked him. He’s a touch on the arrogant side—”

Pansy snorted. “Understatement.”

“—But we think it’s mostly harmless.” Ginny gave Pansy a hard stare. “He was decent, not terribly hung up on things from school days, and he was good to you. And as I said before, nice to stare at.”

“Pansy?” Hermione knew that of anyone at the game, she had the most experience with Marcus, with his family, and with the world in which Marcus lived. 

“I’m with Ginny. Although, the two of you together aren’t as… what’s the word… something like sparkly?” She scrunched her nose in thought. “I can’t explain it. It just seems… fine. Fine. Perfectly fine. Which is fine, don’t get me wrong. But you said it was going slow?”

Hermione felt a little defensive. “It’s nothing terribly serious at this point, but I’m having fun. I like Marcus. I am happy with slow right now. He makes me feel… nice. It’s not sparkly, at least not right now, but who knows what the future holds? Whenever I’m with him, I want to see him again, so until that changes, I’ll keep going.”

Pansy eyed her critically, then shrugged, flipping her hair over her shoulder as though she hadn’t a care in the world. “Ron and I were sparkly from the first instant he kissed me. I knew then that I never wanted him to stop kissing me.”

Ginny groaned. “Enough, already!” She looked at Hermione in exasperation. “She just loves to tell me all about her intimate relationship with my brother. I want to claw my eardrums out most of the time.”

“It’s really fun.” Pansy nudged Hermione with her elbow. “Did you ever torture her with stories of you and Ron between the sheets?”

Hermione cringed. “No. We mutually agreed never to speak of our sex lives because I was with Ron and she was with Harry, who’s like a brother to me.”

“Ah. Well I don’t care if she tells me all about her and Potter.” Pansy grinned mischievously. “As a general rule, it’s hard to make Ginny squirm, so I’ll take what I can get.”

“Are you getting him anything for your six-month anniversary?” Ginny asked, pointing her fork at Pansy. “He’s been stressing about what to get you ever since you gave him that bloody Snitch in March. He knows he can’t top that, but he’s desperate to try.”

Pansy cackled with glee. “Oh, I do adore him. I can think of plenty of things he can do to me that would more than suffice.”

Ginny looked like she’d just swallowed something awful. “I don’t want to know. Sorry I asked.”

Pansy smirked triumphantly and sipped from her glass of wine. “Or I’ll ask him to marry me.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped. “What?”

Ginny squealed and threw her arms around Pansy, threats of excessive coital information forgotten. “That’s so exciting!”

“You’ve not even been together six months!” Hermione cried in disbelief and maybe a little bit of jealousy. 

“Nah. I knew right away with Harry, too.” Ginny was still grinning. “Once we actually started dating and moved past the war, the post-war efforts, and working through our issues from school. I had a good feeling from the moment I really saw him. Took him a little longer, but we got there.” Her hand dropped absently to her belly. 

Pansy patted Herminoe’s hand. “Just because you don’t feel that with Marcus right now doesn’t signify anything. I mean, you can’t very well go by what makes sense. Just look at Draco and Astoria.”

“What do you mean?” Ginny asked, taking a drink of water.

“She’s been in love with him for years, right?” Pansy leaned forward, as though she were going to share something she shouldn’t. “So, then he finally asks her out, for whatever reason, and they have one date—his foundation’s fundraiser, not what I’d have done, but I’m not Draco and he didn’t ask my opinion—which he should have—and then that’s it. The end. He decides he’s seen enough.” 

Hermione definitely wanted to hear more on this topic, even though she knew it didn’t have anything to do with her and did not affect her in any way. “If you can know someone is right quickly, it seems to reason that you can know something doesn’t work just as quickly.”

Pansy pointed her fork at her. “I don’t disagree. I’m on Draco’s side. But there are a lot of people with loud opinions who say he didn’t give her a fair shot. I hear her mother even formally requested that Narcissa require him to see Astoria one more time.” 

“You’re lying!” Ginny exclaimed.

“I’m not. I’m completely sincere. Daphne told Tracey, Tracey told Millie, and Millie told me.” Pansy smiled dreamily. “I wish I could have seen Narcissa’s face. I imagine it was quite spectacular. That woman can be scary when she’s crossed.”

“I wish I could’ve seen it too,” Hermione agreed. “I think she’d have a quiet, finely-focused wrath; she has a gaze that could bore through steel. I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of it.”

Pansy tutted. “You don’t have to worry about that. She adores you.”

“She really does.” Ginny nodded in agreement. “It’s kind of amazing, actually. I was just telling Harry the other day that it’s so surreal that you’re friends with her. Actual friends. Not just acquaintances, not just someone who works for her. You have tea with her, don’t you?”

“Occasionally,” Hermione replied. Her friendship with Narcissa surprised her just as much as everyone else. 

Ginny sighed as she set down her fork on her empty plate. “Would it be terrible to order another plate of this?”

Hermione laughed while Pansy shook her head in disapproval. They’d both been waiting for Ginny to finish, and now that she had, Hermione grabbed the dessert menu. “Would you rather do that? Or eat this giant piece of chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chocolate shavings?”

**ooo**

When Hermione reached the inside of her flat, she was still grinning. As she shed her layers, kicking off her shoes and rubbing her feet, she actually laughed at something Pansy had said while Ginny proceeded to consume more than her fair share of the cake. Her cheeks hurt from laughing so much. Hermione started water for a cup of tea, changed into something very comfortable, and when her drink was ready, took it to her favorite chair.

The evening had been wonderful. There were no other words for it. The time with her friends, relaxed and free, not trying to impress anyone, had been just what she’d needed. She was glad she’d accepted Ginny’s invitation to dinner, though she rather thought the threat from Pansy had been unnecessary. Still, it was nice getting out and doing something just for her. 

If she’d still been keeping up with her work social obligations, she’d never have had the energy for a casual dinner out on a Saturday night, to say nothing of a date before it, as well. 

The following weekend would be June; Hermione couldn’t quite believe how quickly the year was passing, despite her reduced social load. When she’d first decided to change things, she’d expected for the weeks to drag. Perhaps they had at first, before she’d found things to fill her time that also fulfilled her, but now they seemed to speed by. After thinking about it, she wondered if time was going so quickly because she was enjoying almost everything she did. She actually looked forward to the next thing on her calendar, rather than dreading half of her appointments. 

The one thought that brought a shadow into her mind was that she missed Draco. But that would change; his travel would slow and he’d be around more. A niggling thought wormed its way into her brain that it would be strange for her if she started bringing Marcus to things where Draco would also be in attendance. 

One thing was certain: she was happier than she’d ever been. And despite the rapidity with which the days now passed, the memories were sweeter, the conversations richer, and the time with those she loved most longer. Most of all, her days were truly worth remembering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This month was MUCH longer than previous months. I hope that's all right!
> 
> Still don't know what Draco's up to! Will we find out in June? Stay tuned! :)


	6. June

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Hermione begins a quest, goes to the library, and makes a very important decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is being written for Dramione FanFiction Writers 2020 Challenge. For June, we did a little quiz to determine our "favorite genre," and my result was SCIENCE FICTION. Now, I love Star Wars and Star Trek and all of that, but wasn't quite sure how to incorporate such things into this story. But then I remembered SCI-FI books, and so you'll see what I did with my prompt. 
> 
> Beta thanks go to dormiensa and dreamsofdramione, who also helps with alpha stuff and is also just generally awesome. Beautiful graphic made by dreamsofdramione also!
> 
>   
>    
> 

**Thursday, JUNE 1**

Perhaps the most important thing on Hermione's schedule in June was what she hoped would be the first in a series of meetings about the pixie's forest. She'd worked through May to prepare an argument and secure an audience with her own superiors wherein she could present her findings, make her points, and provide alternatives to the impending ruin of the protected pixie forest. She felt reasonably confident that logic would prevail, though the Ministry's track record kept her up at night if she thought about it too much.

Her meeting with her boss was slated for the following day, and she truly felt prepared. She smiled at the note in her planner for June 2. Then, as she glanced at the whole month of June, she froze. Draco's birthday was in four days. Four! She rarely ever looked ahead in her planner beyond making sure she didn't double-book herself, since she was trying hard to live in the present, so such an early birthday snuck up on her. Absently, she wondered when Marcus' birthday was; she'd have to ask the next time she saw him.

Hermione's thoughts were arrested thinking about Draco's birthday. She hadn't heard of any plans to celebrate, and she hadn't bought him a gift. Should she ask him? Should she get him something? She thought about the macarons from that patisserie in Paris, but it simply wasn't possible that Draco Malfoy, whose parents owned a townhouse on the Champs-Élysées, had never tasted the delicacy. Still, he would certainly appreciate it. She jotted a quick note in her planner to order a box for him.

Briefly, she wondered what he was planning to do for his birthday. She hadn't heard a word about it, from him or Harry or Pansy or anybody. But before she could think about that, she needed to go over her notes one last time before her meeting the following morning.

Her tea kettle whistled, and she prepared herself a cup, grabbed a scone, and settled into her favorite armchair—the one Ron called a large, shaggy sloth. She didn't care; it was the most comfortable furniture ever made, by wizard or Muggle, and no one could convince her otherwise.

The meeting should be fairly straightforward. The Quidditch Association of England had officially put in their request with the Ministry to purchase the forest. There was some vague wording about 'considerations for the current occupants,' which, upon further investigation, she believed merely existed in order to check all the boxes so they could say they'd done everything in their power. In reality, she didn't expect much, if anything, would be done for the pixies, to say nothing of the non-magical creatures who lived there.

In theory, all Hermione had to do was show the original contract between the Ministry and the pixies. That should be enough to put a stop to the sale. However, she had a feeling it wouldn't be that simple, so she'd done what she always did: she researched.

She'd spent much of her free time in May deep in the stacks, researching everything from Pixie-Wizarding relationships throughout history, to pixie habitats, to geological surveys of the forests of England—and everything in between. She'd built an argument for why the pixies needed _this_ particular forest. She'd outlined the dangers the community would face if forced out of their home, from predators to finding an adequate food source. She'd shown why selling the land would put an enormous strain on relations with the pixies and why that was undesirable. She'd even gone so far as to suggest four other locations where a new Quidditch Pitch might be built.

Once her research was completed, she'd written a twelve-foot long proposal, complete with three additional pages of charts, graphs, statistics, and a timeline, plus four pages of references. Then, she'd shown it to Harry and Narcissa, whom she trusted implicitly, and they'd both given her excellent feedback. After another round of research and edits, the essay was fourteen feet long, with an additional two pages of data. She would have shown it to Draco, but he'd been extremely difficult to get in touch with, and she hadn't wanted to bother him when he was apparently quite busy. Briefly, she'd thought of Marcus, but something held her back. He still wasn't terribly interested in her work, and though he'd asked about her conference, he'd quickly moved the conversation to other topics.

After reading through it again and going over her planned talking points, Hermione was as prepared as she could possibly be. As if on cue, she yawned, chuckled to herself, and went to bed.

**ooo**

**Friday, JUNE 2**

Hermione let her tray drop, clanging loudly against the table, then sat in a grumpy huff.

"That bad?" Harry's expression was one of concern. He stopped what he was doing and gave her his full attention.

She scowled and started preparing her cup of tea, her thoughts whirring in frustration. When it was ready, she blew on the surface of the hot liquid, then took a sip. Harry waited patiently, and she felt tears prick her eyes at what a good friend he was.

With a sigh, she took one more sip and set her cup down, ready, she hoped, to talk. "Worse. He barely listened. Everything I said, he had some excuse. Every argument I made, he had something to counter it. But nothing made sense, Harry. He sounded like he was just reading off a list of counter-points handed down from somewhere. I knew as soon as I walked in that it wouldn't go well."

"So he won't support you?" Harry frowned. "You need his support to take the matter higher, don't you?"

Hermione felt her anger rise in waves. "Oh, he approved my request—after he argued and belittled and dismissed everything I had to say. I think the only reason—the _only_ reason, Harry—is because of who I am. Possibly also because he knew if he didn't, I'd go over his head, and that would look very bad if the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures vetoed an effort to save a protected creature sanctuary. But I have a feeling it was the one free pass I'm going to get in all of this."

"I'm so sorry, Hermione." Slowly, Harry resumed eating, chewing thoughtfully. "Now, don't get upset with me for this question, but have you talked to Narcissa about this?"

She was surprised by his question. "Narcissa? Oh, she knows all about it. I told her about the situation when I saw her for her birthday, and then later she let me use the Malfoy library. I even let her read my proposal, and her questions and suggestions helped a lot. Why?"

"The Malfoys just have a lot of pull these days." He shrugged. "Maybe she could help in another, more strategic way. Speak to some people on your behalf."

Hermione bristled. "Harry Potter, I'm astonished at you. I have no intention of asking Narcissa to do such a thing! I would never want to leverage my relationship with her to get something out of it. That's a very Slytherin thing to say."

"I was nearly Sorted there." Harry grinned. "But I don't mean you'd try to manipulate her. Not at all. Just… tell her what happened today and see what she says. She might offer a different kind of assistance. As much as we don't like it, there are certain things that move projects like this along faster. I'm just saying."

"I will certainly tell her about my meeting, but I'm not going to ask her to help me influence people. That's really not the way I want to go about this. Then if she did offer, I wouldn't feel right accepting. I want people to do this because it is right. I want to go about this through all of the proper channels. I mean, honestly, Harry! This is the most straight-forward case I've ever seen. That section of forest was given to the pixies over a hundred years ago, negotiated through a contract between the Ministry and their Queen. We have no right to attempt to take it from them, by force or any other means. Surely this effort won't gain any momentum, but just in case it does, I intend to get out in front of it." She paused for breath, her heart racing. "It's very clear. The law is on the side of the pixies."

Harry sighed and pushed his tray away. "As much as I hate to say this, and as much as I think you're right, I'm afraid it won't be that simple."

Hermione scowled. "Not if my meeting today was any indication." She closed her eyes and took a few deep, calming breaths. "But enough about my day. How are you?"

He groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "It's been a nightmare without Draco. He's been here all week, but it's his first full week of work in over a month! And he was displeased with the state of our reports, even though I'd told him, repeatedly, that he wouldn't be happy with them when he came back. I mean he's been in and out, but mostly out, and we've done our field work when he's been here, which left me to the reports, and…" Harry sighed. "I'm definitely not as good with those as he is."

"He's still missing a lot of work?"

"May was a mess. He leaves tomorrow for a long trip, but then once he's back, I believe that's his last one."

"Any idea what he's doing yet?" Hermione tried not to sound too interested. "I remember last month you weren't sure."

Harry shook his head, still chewing a bite of roll. "No clue. He's being very mysterious about it all. I'm completely perplexed, to tell the truth. Ginny showed me pictures of him with some woman in Iran one week? And then the next, with another woman in China? Honestly, I thought you might know. He won't say a word about it; believe me, I've asked."

Hermione remembered the Iranian woman, and she'd heard gossip about Draco in China, India, and Japan. There were some pictures, apparently, of him in China, and the headlines were similar to those from his trip to Iran. He was with a woman, and the articles buzzed about his dating life.

"How can he say nothing? You've asked him about it, surely?" She thought back to the conversation she'd overheard between Draco and his mother in February, about how he liked to stay out of the papers, so his sudden appearance in the news, in the gossip magazines, no less, was surprising.

"Point blank," Harry said with a vigorous nod. "He simply rolls his eyes and tells me to sod off. He can be one of the most infuriating people I know sometimes."

"I do know what you mean." Hermione frowned as she chewed on a piece of carrot. Even though she wanted to ask more about Draco, she really felt that she ought not to, since she didn't want to give Harry any cause for questioning her motives. It was natural for them to occasionally discuss their mutual friend, but an excess of questions would trigger suspicion in Harry's Auror-trained mind.

She steered the conversation in a new direction and before they knew it, the lunch-hour was over.

**ooo**

**Monday, JUNE 5**

_Dear Draco,_

_Remember that conversation we had during my conference last month via the journal you gave your mother? I was sitting in a patisserie with a certain treat. I doubt you remember; it was just a passing comment. But after eating through half the box while waiting for you to reply, I decided you had to try them. Then I realized you probably had, but maybe not these particular flavors. I searched high and low throughout France to put together a box of macarons in flavors I'm nearly certain you've never even heard of. I look forward to hearing if I'm wrong._

_I'm also sending along a book. I look forward to hearing your thoughts._

_Happy Birthday._

_I hope you're doing something fantastic today._

_Hermione_

**ooo**

**Wednesday, JUNE 7**

_Hermione,_

_I have never heard of Mint Julep, Chocolate Gravy, or Maple Sugar, so congratulations on completely surprising me. The other three were combinations I never would have thought to put together. All in all, it was quite a surprise, and I couldn't help but think of you as I ate each one._

_The book looks… interesting. What kind of creature is that on the front? It looks like a skeleton, but it's unlike anything I've ever seen. Is it a magical creature? I'm curious what this 'Jurassic Park' is all about. I'm sure by the time I see you again, I'll have at least started it. Thank you very much._

_I was in meetings most of the day, which is the opposite of fantastic, though some acquaintances here treated me to a nice dinner. Something called a hot dog. I also had my first—and I certainly hope not my last—deep-fried Oreo. Have you heard of them? I shall have to instruct the elves at the Manor to recreate them. You simply must try one._

_Thank you for the birthday wishes. I think my mother is planning dinner for me when I return home._

_Sincerely,_

_Draco_

**ooo**

**Friday, JUNE 9**

It was a typical Friday in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, full of frantic co-workers desperate to finish assignments they'd had the entire week to finish. Hermione usually didn't have frantic Fridays, as she generally didn't slack off during the week. This week, however, she not only had her Ministry work, but she'd also been doing research on the Pixie Project, as she'd deemed it in her head. So while her work was complete, she still felt a little frazzled.

What little there was to be found in the Ministry Archives didn't help much. She'd located the contract, or treaty, signed between the Ministry and the pixies, but she had thus far been unsuccessful at finding anything in writing wherein the Ministry acknowledged the pixie's right to self-government and autonomy. It was disappointing but not surprising.

She needed more resources before she could hope to compile something compelling enough for the Department Head to not just listen to her argument, but agree with her. Part of her secretly thought nobody ever would, but she pushed that thought down else she might drown in the impossibility. She had to believe in a world where good wins and people truly care.

Since the Ministry library was so grossly inadequate, Hermione had sent a letter to Minerva asking for permission to visit the Hogwarts library. Minerva had gladly granted it, and Hermione planned to spend the following day at Hogwarts. There was still one other place where she knew she'd find information, but for some reason, she was unsure if she should ask.

It was silly, she knew. Never before had she hesitated to contact Narcissa if she thought the other woman could help, and Narcissa was always pleased to give Hermione whatever she needed. But now, with her untimely attraction to Draco and after her last conversation with Harry, she felt self-conscious, sure that his mother could read her thoughts or sense the change in her.

Which was ridiculous. Before she could talk herself out of it, Hermione penned a quick note to Narcissa and sent it. She immediately felt better, ready for lunch with Harry, though it would have to be a short one. She had a meeting that afternoon to prepare for, and she hadn't spent any time that morning doing so. She was just packing up some things from the morning when there was a knock at her door.

"Come in." She grabbed her wand and ID and looked up to see Marcus in the doorway, smiling at her. "Oh! Marcus! I wasn't expecting you."

"Surprise?" He crossed his arms. "Looks like you're going somewhere."

"I always have lunch with Harry on Fridays. Well, whenever possible, but it's a standing date. Why, did you need something?" She wrapped a light jumper around her; the cafeteria was always cold.

His smile wavered for a moment. "I was hoping to ask you to have lunch with me."

"Why didn't you owl?" Stopping by someone's office ten minutes before noon and hoping to catch them for lunch wasn't a recipe for success.

Marcus shrugged, a look of something like doubt flickering in his features. "It was a last minute idea."

Her first thought was to tell him sorry, she couldn't, but really, he wasn't asking much of her. She could skip a lunch with Harry every now and then, he wouldn't mind. She smiled at Marcus. "Sure. Let me let Harry know." Returning to her desk, she wrote out another quick note and sent it on its way. With a smile for Marcus, she said, "There. But it's got to be short, at the cafeteria. I've a meeting in ninety minutes that I'm not ready for."

"It's better than nothing." Marcus chuckled and led her through her Department and out into the Ministry at large.

They stood in line and made small talk while they selected their food. Hermione found them a table near the exit, so she'd be close when it was time to leave. "I never see you in here," she remarked, preparing her cup of tea.

"I never eat here." He smiled. "My cook at home usually prepares something for me to bring."

"You've a cook?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Not a house-elf, if that's what you're thinking," he hurriedly added. "I rather prefer the variety and ingenuity of a human for the task. But I'm a bit spoiled in that regard."

"I'm guessing this will taste like rubbish, then." Hermione glanced with dismay at what sat on his tray.

Marcus laughed. "It's fine, really. I don't mind."

The look he gave her was genuine, and it struck her that he truly was fine eating Ministry cafeteria food if it meant having lunch with her. Hermione took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. She still wasn't sure why she wasn't able to fully be herself with Marcus yet. Would she ever feel comfortable enough to show him her truest self? And if she did, would he still be interested? It was part of what made dating so daunting. She'd learned soon after the war that a lot of men wanted her to act a certain way around them, so they didn't feel intimidated or small, and it had put her off dating entirely for a while.

He startled her from her thoughts when he put his hand on hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Really, Hermione. Though I would like the chance to get to take you somewhere really nice."

She smiled, forcing herself to relax, be fully present, as was her year's mission, and enjoy the brief time with him. "I'd like that."

**ooo**

**Sunday, JUNE 11**

"Thank you so much for making time for me today."

Narcissa smiled benevolently. "Of course, dear. My home is always open to you. I had the house-elves pull everything they could find on pixies. I know they found books on their self-governance rights in The United Kingdom, their dietary needs, where they live, and their social norms and customs. I'm sure there are others, too."

Hermione knew the way to the Malfoy library, but she was thankful to have Narcissa with her. Even though the room where she'd been tortured by Bellatrix had been completely destroyed and sealed, she still knew the stretch of wall that covered the remains of the place where she'd lived through the worst hour of her life.

The library was easily her favorite room in the Manor. It was far bigger than it looked, and it contained books dating back to before William the Conqueror landed on England's shores. There were rows and rows of books, but also a very cozy sitting area arranged before a large fireplace. As soon as Narcissa opened the door, the fireplace roared to life, casting warm light on an antique Venetian settee that Draco had once told her was over two hundred years old. It was extremely comfortable, which she knew wasn't exactly consistent with the time period, but she had spent many hours on the settee, reading books or talking with Draco or Narcissa about all manner of topics. The pale green velvet upholstery was softer than it looked, and the wooden frame was carved with exquisite detail.

On either side of the sofa were two brown leather armchairs, but she never bothered with them. A coffee table completed the sitting area.

Near the front of the room, just inside the door, was a large table on which were stacked a few piles of books. Narcissa directed her to the table and motioned toward the books. "Anything you need, please don't hesitate to call for me. I've instructed Pippi to serve you in any way she can. Please join me for any meal you're here for. Brunch will be at eleven, tea at three, and dinner at seven."

"Thank you so much. I'm sure my stomach will force me out of this room at some point." Hermione set her bag down on the table and looked longingly at the settee. She'd find herself over there before too long, she knew, but until then, she was stuck with the heavy wooden chairs at the table.

"Don't make me send an elf after you." Narcissa peered down her nose at Hermione but her eyes were sparkling.

Hermione laughed. "I know you will."

When she was alone, Hermione sighed, breathing in the smell of the place. She hadn't been in the Malfoy library in a while, but she already felt at home. Draco had insisted on removing or covering any portraits of family members who might loudly and rudely disparage her blood status, so it was the room in the Manor where she felt most comfortable by herself. Not that she was anywhere in the Manor alone very often.

With a flick of her wand, she laid all the books out on the table, then picked one she thought was promising: _Pixie Homelands_. She put a spell on the other books to magically mark each instance of the word pixie while she took the _Homelands_ book to the settee and hunkered down to read.

True to her word, Narcissa sent someone to fetch her for tea—she'd worked right through brunch, dismissing her rumbling stomach. When the door opened, Hermione was lounging on the settee, a stack of books on the floor beside her, a quill in her mouth and one in her hair, and a scrap of parchment at hand to jot notes. She looked up, expecting a house-elf or even possibly Narcissa, but was stunned to see Draco in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

Her heart leapt into her throat. Now that she had feelings for him, or could see them for what they were, she was affected very differently than she had been before. She was now suddenly very self-conscious about everything: her hair, which she knew had to be sticking in a hundred directions, the spots of ink on her hands and most likely her face, the extremely comfortable trousers and baggy t-shirt she'd Transfigured her clothes into.

"Um, hi?"

Draco shook his head, a bemused smirk on his face. "Mother sent me to force you to join us for tea."

Hermione blanched. "I can't go have tea with you both looking like this!" She sat up and scraps of parchment, all containing notes from her reading, fluttered down onto the floor.

"I'm to bring you no matter what objections you might raise." He glanced at the stack of books by the settee, and the dozens spread out on the table. "What are you working on?"

"Do you remember when I mentioned the Quidditch Pitch the League wants to build? By tearing down the forest where a huge community of pixies live?" Just reading about pixie communities had made her blood boil at the callousness of the Quidditch League.

He nodded thoughtfully. "Of course. Harry said your meeting earlier this month didn't go well."

"That's an understatement. Now that I know what I'm up against, I've got to bring my best. My boss only let me move forward because of the optics of the thing. It's an uphill battle, but I've been in a few of those in my life." She jutted out her chin, but the action caused a strand of hair to fall in front of her eyes. She tried to blow it out of the way, but it kept falling back.

Draco shook his head and fully entered the room, crossing to the settee in a few long strides. Before she could wonder what he was doing, he'd pulled her to her feet and tucked the strand behind her ear. He smirked, then backed away. Merlin. He hadn't been that close to her since her realization in April, and she was barely breathing. That wasn't a good sign.

"I'll wait in the hall. As much as my mother likes you, she might faint right out of her chair if you come to tea in what you're wearing."

She tried to swat him with the book in her hand, but he jumped back immediately, as though he knew what she would do. "Prat!"

He grinned and left, closing the door behind him.

Hermione quickly altered her clothing, tried to do something with her hair, and joined him in the hall. He still looked highly amused, and she wanted to wipe the smirk off his face.

They started down the hall, but after only a few steps, he grabbed her arm to stop her. "Hold on. You've got ink… just there…" He raised an eyebrow and hesitantly, gently, swiped at her forehead with his thumb.

She held her breath as she watched him, so close again, her heart hammering in her chest. Then he laughed, his eyes on her forehead. Hermione scowled. "Is it that bad?"

"I just smeared it. Sorry. Might want to stop at the loo on the way and take care of it yourself."

"Thanks ever so much." She nudged him with her shoulder after they resumed walking. There was a bathroom at the end of the hall, so Hermione popped in, rolled her eyes at the giant smear of black ink on her head, and Vanished it.

"I'm a good bit into that book you gave me," he said when she'd rejoined him.

She glanced at him. "Oh? Are you enjoying reading about Muggles bringing dinosaurs back to life?"

He gave her a bemused look. "I'm enjoying reading about the moral and ethical dilemmas involved in tampering with nature. There was this great quote by the Malcom fellow. He said…" He stopped walking so that he could concentrate; Hermione did as well. "Something about how, if you look at your life at the end of it, it looks just like any single day within your life. Things never quite go as you think they will, in a day, a year, a life."

Hermione gaped at him. "That's in Jurassic Park?"

He chuckled and resumed walking. "Something like it, anyway. What kind of story is this? What do the Muggles call it?"

"Science fiction," Hermione replied. "They take what is known and create something using that which isn't possible. They can't really bring dinosaurs back from extinction."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

Hermione didn't quite know what to say to that. "To be honest, I'm not. Especially after living most of my life in the magical world. I should reread the book so we can discuss it."

"I look forward to that. For now, I want to hear all about your research."

Hermione nodded. "I'll tell you everything at tea. I know your mum will want to know, too, and I'd rather not repeat myself."

**ooo**

After tea, which lasted far longer than anyone had intended, and during which Hermione filled both Malfoys in on everything that had happened, Draco walked with Hermione to the library. She'd tried to dissuade him from helping her, knowing that she would have a very hard time concentrating with him there. Not to mention, she wanted to return to her comfortable clothes, and she wasn't sure if she could do it with him there. Before April, absolutely. But now?

When they reached the room, Draco opened the door for her to enter. "I'll wait out here again while you get changed."

She blushed but hurried in. Closing her eyes tight, she took a deep breath and completed the Transfiguration. She truly didn't want anything between them to change, and so, despite her newfound self-consciousness around him, she was determined not to let it show.

When she let him in, she noticed he'd also changed and was now wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants with flying Snitches on them and a long-sleeve Slytherin T-shirt. He grinned at her surprised expression. "Couldn't let you be the only one, could I? Now, let's get busy. I've got a little over an hour before I need to leave. I'm having dinner with Pansy tonight."

"Surely you don't plan to wear that."

He laughed. "Of course not. But I don't feel like getting all dressed up when you're…"

"Very much not?" she supplied.

"Something like that."

They sat together on the green sofa and Hermione reached for the book she'd been reading before she was fetched for tea. Forcing herself to concentrate, she opened to her place and tried to resume her research. All she had to do was get through the next hour, then he'd leave and she could focus.

"You could come."

Hermione glanced at him. He was lounging, his legs stretched in front of him, feet crossed and resting on the large matching ottoman. He had a book open, and Hermione knew from the cover that it was a basic history of pixie law. "Come where?"

"Dinner." His eyes darted to meet hers for an instant and her heart skipped a beat. "With Pansy."

Hermione blew out a breath. For an instant, she'd thought he was asking _her_ to dinner. She was still surprised by the invitation, and part of her desperately wanted to accept, but she had a lot of reading ahead of her; besides, she knew she wouldn't be happy if she had plans with a friend and that friend brought someone else along. "Thank you, but I plan to stay here. I've got a lot of books that aren't going to transport their contents into my brain, and I really need that information if I want to be ready for my meeting with the Department Head."

Draco nodded casually. "Is there something else I could read that would help you more?"

"You really don't need to." At his insistent, expectant look, she cast a look around to provide him some direction. "Oh, why don't you read my notes so far? Make sure they make sense and try to poke holes into my thoughts and arguments."

"Sure." He accepted the stack of parchment she handed him, pulled out a quill, and set to work.

After a moment, something struck her and she grinned. "I have a feeling I know what your dinner tonight is about."

He frowned and made a note on her sheet without looking up. "Is that so?"

"Mmhmm. But I'm not saying a word. I do wish I could see your face, though. I'd love to know what you think about such things."

He raised an eyebrow and turned towards her slightly. "Now I'm curious."

"I know. And that's not fair. I'm sorry, but we can discuss it some other time." Hermione smiled at him, then returned to her book. She had a feeling Pansy was going to tell Draco of her plan to propose to Ron, and she wondered what he would think. His family was so traditional that she suspected he wouldn't care much for the idea. But then, Pansy's family was traditional as well, and it had been her idea. Ginny hadn't seemed shocked at the news either, now that she thought of it. _Interesting_.

The time passed quickly and before she knew it, Draco had to leave to change for his dinner. Hermione requested her meal be brought to her and remained in the library until she was doing more yawning than reading. She carefully stacked the books she was using on the large table and called for the house-elf. After asking her not to reshelve those books, Hermione asked where Narcissa was. Upon being told that she was in her bedroom, Hermione sent word that she was leaving and headed home.

**ooo**

**Friday, JUNE 16**

Hermione sat down at the conclusion of her presentation feeling very pleased with the work she'd put into it. She could tell from the look on his face that the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had been both forewarned of her intentions and unmoved by her research.

"Miss Granger." Gerald Crowe was a balding, middle-aged wizard with a round face and wispy brown hair. "You are no doubt aware that there is precedent for the Ministry rescinding a treaty or a contract made with magical creatures?"

"Yes, of course, Sir. The most recent being in 1976 when the Ministry had to clear out a coven of vampires in Wales. But sir, in that case, the vampires were breaking magical law. The pixies have done no such thing!"

He seemed bored, peering at her over his square-framed spectacles. "In short, Miss Granger, the Ministry has some discretion in these matters. However, I'm going to allow you to proceed. Your next step would be to speak with the Department of Magical Games and Sports. This is a complex issue, with many parties involved. I hope I don't upset you when I caution you about moving forward. Everybody wants this Quidditch stadium built. And frankly, I don't see anybody giving up the idea just because of some pixies."

Hermione sat up straight, her blood beginning to boil. "That may be the case, Sir, but the pixies have the right to that land, given to them by us! Does the Ministry truly go back on its promises so easily? I met with the Ppixie Queen earlier this week, and she said they'd heard nothing about any danger to their livelihood or their home. It's rumored that the sale could go through as early as next month! As liaisons to the magical creature communities, it is our responsibility to mediate this process. When, exactly, were we going to tell them that we would be kicking them out of their homes?"

Anger flashed in Crowe's eyes. "That's not your division, nor is it your concern. Did you go through the proper channels to request an audience with their Queen?"

Hermione stuck out her chin. "I sent an official request through this office."

Crowe scowled. "Be careful, Miss Granger. It wouldn't do to anger the wrong people."

"No." She stood, her own ire matching his. "It wouldn't. Good day, Sir."

Without waiting for a response, she stormed from the office. There was no point in trying to work until she'd calmed significantly, so Hermione walked briskly through the Ministry without thinking where she was going. She took the stairs instead of the lift and exited the stairwell when she was out of breath. To her amusement, she found herself on Harry's floor. A quick glance at her watch showed that there were only twenty minutes until lunch, so she decided to meet her friend in his office and walk to the cafeteria together.

He smiled brightly when he saw her approach the desk he shared with Draco, who wasn't there at the moment. Hermione briefly wondered if he was taking more time off again. Harry's expression faltered when he saw hers. "Oh, that's right. You had another meeting, didn't you?"

"Want to start lunch early?"

Harry glanced at Draco's empty seat and hesitated for a moment. "All right. Let me leave him a note." He scribbled something Hermione would hardly call legible on a scrap of parchment and tossed it on Draco's desk.

"Where is he?" Hermione asked as they walked to the lift.

"Meeting. So many meetings. He missed a lot, you know. And he's asked for another two days next week." Harry shook his head. "I hope whatever he's doing wraps up soon. Do you have any ideas?"

She shook her head. "Still nothing."

When they got out on the floor with the cafeteria, Harry sighed. "Lead the way. I can't wait to hear all about how the Department tasked with caring for magical creatures plans to tromp all over a community of peace-loving pixies."

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong, Harry." She shook her head ruefully. "It's the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. There's nothing in there about caring."

**ooo**

**Saturday, JUNE 17**

Hermione was running late. Marcus would be there in fifteen minutes, and she'd only just arrived home from an emergency tea time with Pansy, at which her friend displayed a shocking level of emotion and fear and doubt over her plan to ask Ron to marry her. Hermione had done everything she could to assure Pansy that, while the idea wasn't something she would personally do, she thought it just might be perfect for her and Ron.

Now she was rushing around her flat, clothes flying as she scrambled to change into something appropriate for a nice dinner and whatever else Marcus had planned. She was still putting on the finishing touches when he knocked.

Hermione opened the door with no shoes and only one earring in. He held a bouquet of roses in one hand. She smiled sheepishly. "Hey. Come in. I'm so sorry, Pansy needed me for something."

Marcus closed the door to her flat behind him. "Where can I put these?"

"Um, there's a vase in the kitchen! Just… I think the top shelf over the fridge?" She hurried to put on her other earring, a necklace, do something with her hair, and find her shoes.

When she emerged, Marcus had put the roses in water and was beaming at her. "You're lovely, as always." He leaned down and kissed her briefly.

"Thank you. Again, I'm sorry to be late."

His smile was dazzling. "It's all right. Ready to go? We'll need to Side-Along for this." He held out his arm and she linked hers with it, bracing for the not entirely pleasant sensation of being thrown through space via Apparition.

When they landed, they were on a rooftop somewhere, and spread before her was a scene straight out of a romantic movie. There were strings of lights hung up around a table for two, set beautifully with china and crystal. There were roses everywhere, the same kind he'd brought to her flat, and she heard music playing softly from somewhere nearby. Though they were in the midst of a busy city, the sounds were muted, as though he'd put a wall up designed to keep out most, but not all, of the noise. It was actually rather peaceful.

"It's beautiful!" She felt slightly overwhelmed. It was the sort of scene she'd expect to see for what she'd imagined would happen with Pansy and Ron soon: a proposal. Surely Marcus wasn't going to do something like that.

"I thought you'd like it." He motioned for her to take a seat, holding her chair out and guiding it under the table once she'd sat down. He opened a bottle of wine and poured them both a glass. "My head chef will be serving us tonight. Though we won't see him. He's preparing the food below us. It's kind of like how they do things at Hogwarts."

Hermione forced a smile and took a drink. In her nervousness over what she desperately hoped she was misreading of the situation, she nearly drank the whole glass. "I'm sure it will be delicious."

Right on cue, salads appeared in front of them. Marcus flashed his favorite grin and picked up his fork. "So what did Pansy need you for so desperately?"

"Choosing a dress. For something special." For some reason, she didn't want to tell him what the dress was for. It wasn't even a fancy dress, but Pansy had wanted to look perfect for the night she asked Ron to marry her. Pansy still didn't quite know when it would be, because she was waiting to hear about Ron's schedule before she set the date.

Marcus' eyes widened. "Pansy Parkinson? The same Pansy who had two changes of clothes for the Quidditch outing last month—one for the game, another for after? I can't imagine her asking for fashion advice from… well, anyone."

"Like I said, it's for something really special." Hermione smiled. "We've grown closer since she started dating Ron."

His expression of surprise grew. "That's… interesting. I got the impression from a few interactions with Pansy that she's changed a lot."

Hermione wasn't sure what to say to that. "I didn't know her at all in school, but I think she's lovely and quite fun. She, Ginny and I have had dinner a few times."

He chewed thoughtfully for a long while, then his face lit up. "Do you remember Lucian Bole?"

She nodded. "How could I forget? I spent every single Slytherin-Gryffindor Quidditch game with knots in my stomach because I just knew someone would try to hurt Harry. Lucian Bole included."

Marcus had the grace to look somewhat ashamed. "He's getting married in August."

"Oh. That's… good for him." She wasn't sure what she was supposed to say.

"His family decided it was time for him to settle down. He'd just started dating Jill Vaisey, and his parents pushed for their engagement. So he asked, and she consented. I think they've been together for… three months?"

Three months. That was half the time Pansy and Ron had been together, and Hermione had thought _that_ was fast. She wondered if Lucian and Jill had a sparkly relationship.

Marcus took a long drink from his wine glass. "We've been together about that long."

It was all she could do to control her expression from becoming one of horror. The very last thing on her mind was the idea of getting engaged. "What? I thought our first date was in April, which would put us closer to two months." Honestly, engaged after three months was breakneck speed in her opinion, and she couldn't see that ever happening in her own life.

Marcus grinned somewhat sheepishly. "I'm counting that night at the pub in Ireland. March seventeenth, St. Patrick's Day. That's certainly when I started wanting to see you more."

"Oh. Right." She managed an expression that, while not quite a smile, might have passed for one in the dim lighting. "I suppose it doesn't feel like very long because we really haven't seen each other all that much."

A shadow flickered in his eyes, and he seemed about to speak, but then it faded, replaced by a genuine smile. "I hope we can rectify that. But I don't want to talk about that now. Will you tell me about your day?"

The conversation was easy, going from one light topic to another. The food was incredible, and eventually, Hermione was able to relax. They couldn't talk about his work, and he wasn't terribly interested in hers, though she felt she needed to press the point once more. There was an undercurrent of something serious in everything he said and did, and even his laughter felt heavy. But if he wanted them to have a future, he'd have to show interest in what she had to say.

"Have you heard about the new Quidditch Pitch?" She took a bite of her filet mignon and watched his face carefully.

"The one they're planning to build near Caerphilly?" He nodded enthusiastically. "I've heard it's going to replace the one where the Catapults play. It's about time, the stands there are terrible."

Despite wanting to jump into presenting and defending her position, Hermione calmly prepared a different response. Perhaps Marcus simply didn't know about the forest that would be affected. "The League wants to tear down an important part of the forest there."

His expression immediately turned wary. "Oh?"

"My department is in the mix of the mess, because the pixies and the Ministry have an agreement dating back over a hundred years wherein the Ministry promised not to encroach upon that land." She took a sip of wine.

"I see." Marcus relaxed slightly and smiled. "I'm sure you'll get it sorted out."

Hermione knew Marcus well enough to know that the conversation on his end was finished. She inwardly sighed and knew something was going to have to change.

They returned to light and easy topics for the remainder of the meal. When dessert was brought out, a decadent chocolate torte, Marcus cut a piece and served it to her. After she thanked him, he prepared a piece for himself and waited until she'd taken a bite to speak.

"There's something I've been meaning to discuss with you. I hope you don't think this too forward, but I like you, Hermione. A lot." He flashed what was supposed to be a comforting smile. Hermione only felt uneasy again. When she didn't speak, his confidence faltered a bit, and he continued after clearing his throat. "We've been out a number of times, and I was wondering if you'd be comfortable with me using the term girlfriend when I talk about you."

Hermione's heart started pounding, but not in a good way. "Oh!"

"Wait, don't say anything just yet." He chuckled nervously. "Let me get this all out before I lose my nerve. It's been three months since we first met in that pub, and at first, I was okay with how infrequently you were available. But we've been seeing each other long enough now that I'd hoped, perhaps, you'd be open to seeing me more. You seem to work so much, especially lately, and I respect your work, I really do. However, I'm anxious for more time with you. I don't want you to think I'm being pushy. The more I'm with you, the more I like you." He shrugged self-consciously. "But the deep truth is this: I'm a pureblood, and my family is old. There are many traditions that we keep to, courtship being one, and I'd want to begin those with you. Courtship, I mean. Though, don't worry, my family is nothing like some of the stauncher families."

His gaze dipped from hers, and she knew what he'd almost said. _Like the Malfoys_. It hung unspoken between them, though she didn't know why he seemed unsettled any time she spoke about them.

"My family is anxious for me to settle down, get married, and begin a presence in the upper rungs of society." To his credit, he made a face. "And while I may not care about their timeline, I'm also ready. For myself. I want a family, I want all of that." Marcus reached over and took her hand. "I know we haven't been together very long, but I can see a real future with you. Part of me is terrified to hear what you think. So please, don't respond right away. I'm not asking for marriage tonight. Of course not. But I need you to know that's where I'd like this to head."

Hermione's head was spinning with the suddenness of what he said. It was completely out of the blue! She thought they'd just been having fun, and here he was, telling her that he could see himself marrying her some day! It was overwhelming.

"Take a week," he said, rubbing his thumb gently on the back of her hand. "I'll come over and we can talk. I just… I really like you. And I want you to know what I'm thinking."

"All right. A week." She smiled and extracted her hand ostensibly to continue eating her dessert. It tasted like ash in her mouth now, but she put on a good show of enjoying it. Marcus launched into a discourse about some theory he was working on—always theory, never enough that she could truly join the discussion.

She felt numb for the rest of the evening. Marcus had enough sense to just take her home and say goodnight. He gave her a quick kiss but that was all.

There was no need for her to wait a week to answer him, but she thought it best if she took the time to collect her thoughts and give him the best answer she could while also turning him down. She'd already been feeling pressure from him, though she was certain it was unintentional. It seemed he genuinely enjoyed her company, but since that first lunch together at the Ministry, he'd stopped by three times to invite her to lunch and even dropped by her flat just to chat for a few minutes.

She'd known he wanted more time with her, but she simply hadn't been willing to open her schedule. It was a bit surprising, since she'd started out the year with two goals in mind: lighten her schedule in response to feeling suffocated by all of her commitments, and make time for romance. After trying to force something to happen in January, February, and March, with the speed dating and a few nights out to pubs, she'd discovered more joy in her free schedule than in meaningless dates with practical strangers. When Marcus had appeared in her life, it had felt much more natural and easy, so she'd decided to take things slowly and see where it led. But was it fair to him to work for something she felt so effortlessly for someone else? Was it fair to either of them?

She knew now she wasn't capable of caring for Marus as much as he cared for her. Maybe, if there was no Draco to distract her, if she had more time to get to know Marcus on her own terms, they could have grown to care for each other the way Marcus wanted. But there was no point in thinking about maybes. She could only focus on what was true right then. And, unfortunately, Marcus didn't make the cut.

**ooo**

**Friday, JUNE 23**

When Pansy decided she would ask Ron to marry her, she'd thought out every detail, from when and where to what they'd do after. And since Pansy thrived on attention, she'd invited a small group of friends to celebrate at a posh restaurant in Diagon Alley. Her plan was for everyone to be there when she and Ron arrived.

Hermione showed up, as required, at seven on the dot. She quickly found Harry and Ginny at a large table and joined them. They started talking but after a few minutes of taking in the scene, she realized that Draco wasn't there. She had assumed he would be, since he and Pansy were old friends. Pansy had reserved an entire private area for her event, and most of the tables were filled. Hermione saw Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and some other former Slytherins—mostly ex-Quidditch players—at a packed table on the opposite side of the room. It was only natural to wonder where Draco was, but she refused to mention him.

At quarter after seven, the happy couple entered the room beaming. Everyone cheered, and Pansy seemed to glow brighter with every congratulations. Hermione had never seen Ron so happy, and for the strangest reason, tears smarted in her eyes. Maybe it had been all that talk of sparkly relationships and feelings of knowing, because when she looked at Ron, she knew he was wildly happy. She was thrilled for her friend, but it only made the contrast between their relationship and hers with Marcus all the more stark. At least that would be coming to an end soon.

Pansy and Ron slowly made their way through the room, greeting everyone as they went. Finally, they reached their table, and Hermione stood and launched herself at Ron, hugging him for a long time. It felt really good to have all of their sticky relationship behind them, to see him so happy, and know that everything was well and truly over. There had always been just a hint of lingering… something between them. She had a feeling it was now gone entirely.

Pansy cleared her throat and Hermione released Ron, swiping at her eyes. "Congratulations, Pansy!" She hugged the Slytherin woman as well.

Harry and Ginny also hugged both of them, and then Pansy and Ron sat down. There were still a few empty seats at their table, and Hermione suspected the seating arrangements would be very fluid over the course of the evening. Pansy would surely want to spend some time with her other friends. Daphne, Millicent, Tracey, and a few others were all seated at another table.

Pansy immediately held out her ring and wiggled her fingers as she smiled.

Ginny grabbed her hand and gasped. "This is stunning, Pansy! Did you pick this out?" She eyed her brother for a moment.

Pansy waved. "Of course I did. I wasn't going to leave such a thing to Ron." Then she hooked her arm with his and beamed.

Another round of congratulations went around the table. Ron was still grinning like an idiot. Again, Hermione felt a little twinge. There she was, sitting with her two best school friends, one married with one child and another on the way, and the other just engaged, and she wasn't even serious with anyone.

But she pushed those thoughts down and smiled. "Tell us how it happened!"

Pansy launched into the story of how she'd set up a date to go bowling, which is what they'd been doing when they both realized they liked each other. Pansy had put her ring into a bowling ball, and when Ron stuck his hand in, he yelled, "Ouch!" and dumped the ring out. He'd looked at her, all confused, and she'd asked him to marry her. Ron had laughed long and hard, then said yes and put the ring on her finger.

"And then I said, 'where's _my_ ring?' and then Pansy gave me an old family heirloom ring made of wood to wear for now."

Harry's eyes went wide and he gave an exaggerated gasp. "Ooh, Ron, let me see the ring!"

Everyone laughed. Ron blushed bright red and boisterously showed off the ring she'd given him.

Ginny shook her head. "No one would know you aren't married now."

Pansy smirked. "I know, but when we get married, that ring will be replaced with the real one. When the magic ceremony takes place." When the laughter died down, she seemed startled by something and glanced around the room. Hermione and others waited for her to speak. When she turned back to them, she asked, "Where's Draco?"

Nobody knew, but Pansy looked to Hermione, as though she might have the answer. Of course, she was just as clueless as everyone else.

"I'm right here." Draco appeared over Pansy's shoulder and kissed her cheek, then nodded to everyone already seated. In one hand, he held a single red rose.

Pansy reached out to take it. "Oh, thank you! That was so sweet!"

Draco pulled it just out of her reach. "Oh no, this is for Weasley." Everyone laughed again, Harry cackling so hard that tears streamed down his cheeks. Ron accepted the rose graciously; not even flowers from Draco could spoil his good mood. Pansy got into the spirit and clipped the stem and thorns, then tucked the rose over one of Ron's ears. He rolled his eyes but left it alone.

As Draco took a seat between her and Pansy, Hermione noted that Draco's entire manner—his smile, his eyes, even the tension in his shoulder—was different. He seemed lighter, easier, than she could really remember seeing him. Pansy noticed it too because after she retold the story of the proposal to Draco, she leaned over and asked him why he was in such a good mood.

"What do you mean?"

"Um, you're practically glowing. I just got engaged, so don't even try to steal my spotlight right now. But I still want to know what's going on. Just don't spill your news all over my celebration."

He shrugged, chuckling. "I've no intention of usurping your well-deserved place of honor, Pansy. I'm in a good mood, that's all."

Pansy's eyes narrowed. She was in full detective mode now, determined to suss out the reason Draco was so happy. Hermione was fully supportive of Pansy's efforts, though she had no plans to join the crusade. She'd merely sip her beer and silently cheer her friend on. "Where were you before you came here?"

"I was at the Foundation board meeting." Draco placed his order then and handed the menu back to the server.

"Oh, that was today, wasn't it?" Hermione interjected. So much for staying out of it. Even though she was very involved with the Foundation, she'd never attended the board meetings. Those were strictly for investors, and she most certainly was not one.

"Yes, and it went very well."

"But why would the board meeting make you so happy? That can't be it." Pansy scrutinized him to such a degree that even Hermione felt a little nervous.

He rolled his eyes. "Why can't I just be happy?"

"Of course you can, Draco, but this level of happy is not normal. For you, I mean. If this was your normal way of being, I wouldn't say a word, but it's not. Which means something happened to cause"—She flapped her hands agitatedly in his direction—"this."

Draco shook his head with a sigh. "I've nothing to report to you, Pansy." Before Pansy could reply, Draco turned to Hermione. "Where's Marcus?"

She gaped inelegantly at him for a heartbeat. "Oh, um, he couldn't make it." She hadn't invited him, of course. She was thankful that he had never been close enough to Pansy to warrant an invitation to the celebration dinner.

Draco nodded and seemed ready to engage someone in conversation, but Pansy spoke before he could.

"Why won't you tell me what's going on?"

"Pansy…" His good mood slipped for an instant. "Drop it, yeah? It's Foundation business."

"But you're so happy."

"Yes. I am. It was a good day." He spoke with such finality that Hermione knew for certain Pansy would let it go.

Only she didn't. For a long moment, she furrowed her brow in thought, then she snapped her fingers, eyes wide. "Oh, I know something. You've been in the papers lately."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Please tell me you don't believe all the rubbish you read."

"You've specifically been in the U.S. papers." She preened as though she'd won some sort of point in their discussion.

He waited for her to say more but gave up after a bit. "All right. And?"

Pansy arched a brow. "You should keep up with what people are saying about you."

"I don't care what people say about me." His nonchalant demeanor now and everything Hermione knew about him confirmed this.

"But you should! What if they said you'd… I don't know, grown another arm?"

"I would seriously question someone's judgment if they believed something like that, but beyond that, I truly don't care what people say about me." He took a long swallow, meeting Hermione's eyes and shaking his head.

"Really?"

"Really."

She narrowed her eyes slightly, tilting her head to one side. "There's speculation in the U.S. papers. A lot. Over you dating someone there."

"Speculation?" he repeated warily. Then he sighed and gave her a very stern look. "Pansy, I'm not telling you, but you're way off on this."

"Are you taking her to the Foundation thing in July? The woman you've been photographed with? Or perhaps it's the one in India. Or Nigeria."

Hermione winced at Pansy's demanding tone. She wondered if this was a normal interaction or if Pansy was being extra pushy tonight.

He shrugged effortlessly. "I suppose you'll have to come and see."

Pansy clapped her hands in excitement. "Of course I'll be there, you know I always attend your things. Now I have a very vested interest in going. And I know the July event is always full of surprises. But can't you just tell me a little bit?"

"Isn't tonight about your engagement? Not me?" He shot her a look. "Why are you so interested?"

She waved him away. "Yes, of course tonight is about me, but I can't help it. You're just so… sparkly!"

He raised an eyebrow as he took a sip from his drink. "Sparkly?"

The word hit Hermione hard and she wondered what on earth _was_ making him so obviously happy. It didn't have to mean that he was seeing someone, but it was a very obvious reason for being so happy. She couldn't imagine that it had anything to do with the Foundation board meeting he'd just come from, and she definitely, desperately wanted to know if he was seeing someone because she was ending things with Marcus the next day. Not that it mattered what Draco was doing, as he was clearly not interested in her, but her heart hadn't gotten the message yet and still pined for him.

Briefly, she wondered if he might ask her to attend with him, as they'd done in the past, but then she pushed that thought away. It sounded as though he already had plans to take someone, and it didn't really matter. She'd be there anyway, helping Narcissa, and she needed to get her mind off him—even though he _was_ sitting right beside her.

"Have you talked about a date?" she asked Pansy, hoping to turn the conversation.

Pansy's eyes glittered. "Oh, yes. I'm so glad you asked! We're thinking about December."

"Wow! That's soon!" she exclaimed.

"A full year, start to finish, if I'm not mistaken," Draco added.

"Yes! We think December because it's so pretty in winter. And we have this beautiful tree on our property that would be breathtaking all lit up with fairy lights. We'd have a nighttime wedding. Right Ron?"

Her fiancé was in a conversation of his own with Harry and Ginny, but he looked over and grinned at Pansy. "Yeah. Sure. Whatever."

Everyone laughed.

Pansy looked prim. "Well, I _have_ been planning this for a few weeks, so I've had time to think about what I want."

Draco smirked. "Shouldn't you include Weasley in these plans?"

Ron's eyes went wide. "Look mate, I don't care. Just tell me where to go and when to be there, what to wear and what to say."

The table laughed again.

Pansy's expression became hesitant. "Do you really not care? You really want me to do it all?"

Ron gave her a lazy smile. "Of course I care—about you. The details of the wedding? Not so much. I want you to do what you want to do. And if you want me to do something, then I want to do it." He squeezed her hand. "You and me."

The look of confidence returned to Pansy's face and she smiled as she turned away from Ron. "And Hermione, you'll be in the wedding."

"Oh?!"

She waved her hand airily. "It's only natural: you're one of his best friends. Draco, you're in too, as one of mine."

"Whatever you say, Pans."

She bit her lip thoughtfully. "And of course, Harry and Ginny, and I should ask Theo. What about Daphne? Oh, I do want Daphne, but will that be awkward?"

"Why would that be awkward?" he asked.

"Because of Astoria."

"I… don't see why it would need to be awkward. I don't plan on making it awkward."

Pansy nodded. "Good. So Daphne will be in it, and of course Astoria will be invited." She paused a moment, talking to herself and counting off the wedding party on her fingers. "Oh! Millie. Of course, Millie. She'll be my maid of honor. Speaking of them, I should go over and say hello. I've sat with you lot for long enough. Ron?"

"Yup." He hopped up from his seat and gave them a small wave. "I'll be back at some point tonight." Ron made sure the rose was still securely tucked behind his ear as he walked away.

Ginny shook her head. "I would not have guessed he'd be this happy. Ever. But I'm so glad."

Hermione smiled at her friend. "Me too."

**ooo**

**Saturday, JUNE 24**

Hermione sat at the café where she and Marcus had agreed to meet. She hadn't seen him in a week, but she knew that her decision wouldn't change when she did. Since their dinner the week before, her feelings, which had been tentative and fledgling at best, had all but dissipated. She wasn't sure if it was completely due to the heavy conversation they'd had that night, but that had certainly sped things along. Now came the unpleasant business of the end.

She'd been at the café for thirty minutes, collecting her thoughts and steadying her nerves with a cup of tea. Marcus was right on time and her heart clenched painfully when she saw him. His smile was hesitant but bright, and she hated that she had to hurt him.

He waved and joined her, the chair scraping on the floor as he pulled it out from the table. "Hey."

Hermione smiled. "Hi."

"Looks like you've been here a while." He pointed to her half-empty teacup.

"Yes. I was in the area running a few errands." She took a long sip of tea.

Marcus jumped right to the matter at hand. "I'm sure I know what you're going to say."

She tried to smile. "Oh?"

He nodded. "The way I see it, if you were going to respond favorably, you'd have done so by now."

"I'm so sorry, Marcus." Hermione started to reach for his arm but quickly drew her hand back and looked down at her lap.

"I knew as soon as I said it that I'd made a mistake." He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. "It was too much, too soon. I went home that night and drank myself to sleep. Since I met you in March, you've been talking about caring for your time, and instead of respecting that, I pushed you. Naturally, I wanted to see more of you, but I was impatient. And because I felt so strongly for you so quickly, I assumed you must feel the same way, so I brought up my familial duties."

"Please know, Marcus, that I truly like you. I had fun with you. But the timing is just all wrong." She shrugged, shaking her head slightly. "Plus, I wasn't even sure what I wanted back in March. Not saying I know it now. I'd thought I wanted to meet someone and start something, but when that happened, I found myself not ready after all. I think I'm still sort of figuring myself out this year. I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't apologize, Hermione. What I was asking… it was a huge amount of pressure."

She bit her lip, ignoring the persistent thought poking in her brain that it wasn't completely all about the pressure and the thought of entering into a very serious relationship with Marcus. If she'd been totally swept away by him, she might have considered the request more carefully. But she didn't feel anything sparkly with Marcus, not that she felt confident she'd know the feeling if it ever struck her.

"Well yes, but I'm just not sure I'm the right woman for you. If I were, maybe it wouldn't have felt like pressure." She frowned. "I'm not sure."

"It was a lot, and it was too soon. You'd repeatedly told me that you were taking things slowly, in all aspects of your life, but I dismissed that by telling myself that _I_ was different. And as you said, the timing was terrible." He drummed his fingers on the table. "Well, I wish you all the best, Hermione. I mean that."

She smiled, relief flooding through her at the end of their brief romance. "Thank you, Marcus. I wish the same for you."

He stood, tapped his fingertips on the table, and made to walk away, then stopped. "Will you be—of course you will. I suppose I'll see you in July at the Malfoy Foundation Hogwarts Celebration Night?"

"You will."

He smiled ruefully. "Save me a dance?"

"I don't usually dance, as I'm too focused on other things, but I'll make an exception." Was that a great idea, she wondered? Briefly, she remembered that Draco had already secured a date for the evening, and she decided she didn't much care. There'd be no harm whatsoever in dancing with Marcus.

He nodded and walked away.

Hermione took a shaky breath when he was out of sight. It had gone much more smoothly than she'd feared. Now, though, she'd be forced to watch Draco and his date all evening, and after seeing him so happy the day before, she had a feeling her heart was going to be trampled on in new and excruciating ways. But, then again, she truly wanted him to be happy. It had made her feel good seeing him so happy the night before, so maybe, just maybe, she could celebrate with him.

When she thought of the night before, she couldn't help but smile, and not only because of Ron and Pansy. She, Draco, Harry, and Ginny had had a wonderful time over dinner, and after a bit, Ron had returned to finish off their meals. Then more of his family had shown up, and the atmosphere in the room had been full of love and joy. She hoped, when it was her turn to fall madly in love, that she would possess even a fraction of the feeling that had filled that room.

And if her arm had brushed against Draco's more than absolutely necessary, she wasn't complaining. If she stared at him just a tad more than could be excused as normal, so be it. Two months had passed since she'd realized she cared for him, and in all that time, she'd tried to push her feelings away, bury them because they had no future. That hadn't changed.

But after she'd left the restaurant, she'd pretended, for just a fleeting moment, that she and Draco had been on a double date with Harry and Ginny, and the fantasy was sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I know it's not fun that this story only posts once a month, and I appreciate any reads and reviews I get SO MUCH!! Those of you who have stuck with this story, despite the LONG wait between chapters, are GOLD and I wish I could give you all socially-distant hugs of thanks. This type of hug is perfect for an introvert like me, who typically cringes at hugs! 
> 
> Anyway, I'm on Tumblr (though not much) and FaceBook, if you want to find me and say hi!


	7. July

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is wedding planning, a significant dance, and Pansy sees something new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is being written for Dramione FanFiction Writers 2020 Challenge. FOR JULY, we were supposed to use a story idea generator, and since I'm doing a multi-chapter fic, my result made absolutely no sense. 
> 
> It was: Protagonist is a knight who is quick-witted. A secondary character is a shaman who is braver than most. The Plot is an urban fantasy story about the weight of heritage. It kicks off in a busy tavern with a chase. Note that someone in the story has recently lost someone dear. And there's a twist! The story is based on Arthurian legend.
> 
> You'll see how I dealt with this. 
> 
> Many thanks to dormiensa for the beta job, and endless praises go to dreamsofdramione, who not only betas, but also alphas, made a page of notes for me for help in plotting this story, AND makes a graphic for each chapter.
> 
>   
>    
> 

**Saturday, JULY 1**

Even though it was a Saturday, Hermione had made it a point to flip her calendar first thing that morning. July was a very important month, and once she was ready for the day, she checked her planner one last time. The list of her errands for the day was written in the block, and she tried to focus solely on that, but a quick glance at the rest of the month made her sigh. Her cooking class was off for the summer, which was something of a relief, despite how much she enjoyed it. The most prominent appointment of the month was a mere two days away, when she was slated to meet with the Department of Games and Sports. She’d been tweaking her message in order to make sure it addressed their concerns, but she had a sinking feeling that they were merely humoring her by granting her the audience.

In bold letters, she noted the upcoming fundraiser was coming up very soon. It was the last Saturday before the event, in fact, but Hermione had a full day ahead of her. 

The Malfoy Foundation’s July event had always focused on Hogwarts. Alumni guests were encouraged to pay homage to their former Houses however they saw fit. This year, Hermione chose a gown in a brilliant shade of red, befitting of her time in Gryffindor. She’d picked up her dress the night before, and it now hung on a door; she didn’t want to risk wrinkles by trying to fit in her closet. Some women would follow suit and wear gowns in a house color, but others might choose to only incorporate it in their shoes or a purse or a scarf. It was always one of her favorite parts of the evening, and she enjoyed seeing how people chose to represent their time at Hogwarts.

Ever since its inception, the Foundation had made it a priority to focus on the school. It had been their first project, their first fundraiser, and Hermione knew that Narcissa looked forward to it every year. 

This year would surely be no exception, but unlike previous years, Hermione didn’t know what the focus of the evening would be. Narcissa had kept unusually quiet about it, telling her only that it was taken care of and she’d find out that night just like everybody else. Hermione tried not to feel put out by this; it wasn’t like Narcissa to keep her out of the loop, but there must be some reason for it. 

Hermione had spent the last week and would spend the coming week helping with all the last minute details and then she would manage the event. It didn’t matter too much that she didn’t know the recipient of the fundraiser or the main speaker. Narcissa normally introduced the speakers; Hermione only needed to make sure things ran smoothly.

Scanning the remainder of the month, she saw Harry’s birthday at the end and it made her smile. She also knew Ginny’s baby was due somewhere in the middle. It was perhaps one of the most open months she’d seen when she flipped her calendar page, and this made her smile. She knew now that having such an open schedule meant that she would fill it with good things. 

Hermione jotted down her errands on a separate slip of parchment, shut her planner, and left for Diagon Alley.

* * *

**Monday, JULY 3**

Hermione dressed with care. She knew that a meeting with the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports was no small thing, and she needed to impress without intimidating. She sighed at the thought as she scanned her work schedule for the day. The big meeting was slated for two o’clock that afternoon, and she had blocked off the rest of her schedule until then, opting for a long lunch. 

She ate lunch outside the Ministry for a change, at her favorite café just a short walk away. She spent her time carefully reading over her presentation, making adjustments and trying to think of what reasonable arguments they might try to give that she hadn’t already considered. 

When she decided she couldn’t look at the thing a minute more, she took a walk in the area of London around the Ministry to further clear her mind of her morning tasks and troubles. It was nice to be out and to breathe fresh air, and she felt very calm when she returned to her office. Hermione gathered her notes and a bottle of water, then made her way over to Games and Sports.

If she’d had any doubts about which parts of the Ministry were seen as more important than others, they vanished when the lift doors opened on the seventh level. She’d never been here before, so the brightness, the sleek design of the reception area, and what she could see of the offices, were something of a surprise. It was no secret that Games and Sports enjoyed a special relationship with the greater Quidditch world, and it was on full display. Autographed posters of famous players from around the world lined the walls, and down the main hallway, set into the walls, were special displays of Quidditch gear from famous games, complete with plaques like at a museum.

Hermione managed not to roll her eyes. 

She approached the woman at the reception desk with a smile. “Hello. I’m Hermione Granger, and I’ve got an appointment with Garrison Johnson at two.”

The woman checked her calendar, her finger skimming down the page. “Ah. Yes. Miss Granger. Please wait here.” She indicated a row of chairs, then disappeared through a door. 

Hermione sat carefully on the edge of the seat, her nerves now fully on fire. Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long. The woman returned through the door, holding it open and beckoning Hermione to follow. 

Her heels clicked loudly in the spartan hallway. “You’re a tad early, but they’re ready for you.” She stopped outside a door and spun to face Hermione. “Here you are.”

“I’m sorry, did you say ‘they’ are ready for me? I was only supposed to meet with the Department Head.” 

The woman gave her a bored look. “Be that as it may, the Department Head is in this room, and this is where I was told to bring you. He requested that the entire committee be present. That’s all I know of it.”

Hermione swallowed hard and forced a small smile. “I see. Thank you.”

The woman nodded and walked away, her heels clacking as she went. Hermione waited until the sound had faded before taking a deep breath. The entire Committee? She knew, peripherally, that the Head of Games and Sports was part of a committee that made major decisions for the Department, but she’d never imagined having to speak to all of them. Could there have been a mistake?

Someone inside the room cleared his throat expectantly, and Hermione realized they knew she was there. No matter. She held her head high, opened the door and walked in.

She found herself standing behind a small table with a single chair. Separated by maybe ten feet was another table, this one longer, where five large, brawny men sat in solemn silence, staring at her. The Head of the Department, Mr. Garrison Johnson, was in the middle seat of the table, directly facing her. He gave her an empty smile and motioned toward the single chair. 

“Miss Granger. I hope you don’t mind this little change of plans, but I thought it best we deal with this directly so there are no… misunderstandings.”

Hermione knew exactly what was going on now. She’d known it was a long-shot to speak with Johnson about the pixie forest, but it had been a necessary step she had to take in the process. She couldn’t go higher until she’d spoken with everyone directly connected to what was happening. But this—changing the meeting from a one-on-one in his office to a full committee defense—was purely an intimidation tactic. The fact that everyone else present was male, dressed in sharp suits, and frowning severely, was not lost on her. They meant to quash her efforts so soundly that she would run back to her own department, tail tucked between her legs. Well, these men obviously had no clue who they were dealing with.

She wouldn’t win this battle, it was stacked against her, but that didn’t mean she would let them bully her into silence. Though, truthfully, she had moments where she despaired of the war itself.

“Mr. Johnson, I see that you’re saving everyone time by convening the full committee. How expedient.”

He smiled wryly. “No point in wasting more time than absolutely necessary, don’t you agree?”

“Quite.” Hermione stepped to the table and set her notes down, but she did not sit. Instead, she stood tall, faced them squarely, and began.

**ooo**

Twenty-two minutes later, Hermione left the room, her notes clutched in her hand so tightly her knuckles were white. She returned down the hall and thanked the receptionist again. When the lift arrived, she gave a small wave and stepped on, pressing the button for Harry’s floor. There were others present, so she continued to clutch the parchment in her hands like a lifeline.

When they arrived at Level Two, Hermione calmly stepped off and glanced toward the Auror Department. But she couldn’t hold on much longer, and before she sought her oldest friend, she made her way to the nearest loo. Once inside, she shut herself in a stall, put up silencing wards, and started sobbing. Her hands shook as she stood there, sobs of anger and frustration wracking her body. She didn’t cry long, just enough to take the edge of humiliation off. When she’d collected herself, she washed her face and went to find Harry.

Rather than going straight to his desk, as she normally would have, she asked someone to get him and waited in the hall.

Harry hurried out, concern written on his face. “Hermione?”

Tears threatened again and she bit her lip.

Harry didn’t hesitate. He grasped her elbow lightly and led her down the hall to a private room the Aurors used for small meetings. Harry locked the door behind him. Hermione sat stiffly in a comfortable chair, clasping her hands on her knees and trying not to cry again. Harry pulled a chair over so that he could face her, and took her hands in his. 

“You’re not okay.”

She shook her head. “It was awful, Harry.” 

“Your meeting?” 

Hermione nodded, not trusting her own voice.

“Let me get you some water, okay? Do you need anything else?”

“No. Thank you.” Her voice was small and she hated the way that farce of a meeting had affected her. 

Harry sent his Patronus through the wall, and Hermione wondered where it was going, but then Harry turned back to her, closing his hands over hers once more. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She’d come to find him because she needed to talk, and she’d thought she was ready, but just then, tears were more likely to spill than her words. She nodded but her lip trembled. 

“It’s all right, take your time.” Harry looked so concerned that Hermione’s heart swelled. He was such a good friend. 

There was a sharp knock on the door and then it opened, revealing Draco with a glass of water. His eyes widened when he saw Harry and Hermione, and he didn’t seem to know what to do with himself. “Er, Potter, your water?”

“Thanks, Malfoy.” Harry reached for the glass but didn’t stand, so Draco fully entered the room to bring it to him. The door shut behind him, once again sealing them in from interruption. Harry quickly gave the glass to Hermione, who took it and drank a few swallows.

Draco’s presence was unexpected, and she didn’t know how she felt about it. Her first reaction upon seeing him had been relief, but then she’d remembered her new feelings for him. She suddenly felt conscious of the fact that she must look a fright after the intense sobbing she’d done in the loo and now fighting to keep tears at bay. But his presence also bolstered her in a way that was surprising. The tears remained just there, ready to spill, but she no longer felt like succumbing. 

“Thank you, Draco.” She set the glass down and gave him the best smile she could manage at the moment.

“You’re welcome.” He was obviously as concerned about her as Harry, but he made to leave.

Hermione suddenly felt very strongly that she didn’t want him to leave. “Draco? Will you stay?” 

“Of course.” He gave her a strained smile and leaned against the wall, his brow furrowed. 

“So, what happened?” Harry asked, sitting back in his chair.

Hermione took a few shaky breaths before she was ready. “I was supposed to meet with Garrison, as you recall.”

Harry nodded. “To talk about the pixie forest and the Quidditch plans.”

“Right. Well. He decided to bring in the whole Departmental Committee to hear my presentation, and Harry, it was like an attack.” Anger swelled in her again, and she pushed away the tears. “All five of them, sitting there, looking so stern and smug, as though they were merely letting me have my little say and then they’d get back to important business.” 

Harry whistled. “All of them?”

“It was awful. I knew beforehand that it wouldn’t go my way, but I never dreamed I’d be subjected to what amounted to an interrogation! They asked question after question, sneering at my responses, showing me just what they thought of me and my ‘little quest,’ as one of them termed it. I knew as soon as I saw them all what the outcome would be, but I refused to be cowed and silenced.”

Harry chuckled. “They didn’t realize who they were dealing with.”

She gave him a sharp look. “I may be Hermione Granger, but that doesn’t mean anything when a large amount of money is involved. You know as well as I do, Harry, that the Ministry is happy to toss our names around when it suits them, but Merlin forbid we actually want to make changes or suggestions or see things improved in the wizarding world. Then, we’re just a bloody nuisance. Best quiet us before we make too much noise.”

“Did they listen to you at all?” Draco asked, his voice like steel.

“Depends on what you mean by listen,” she said with a scoff. “They let me speak; I doubt they considered a single word I said. Their minds had been long made up before I walked in there.” She paused, realizing something. “I’m sure that my Department Head warned them ahead of time. That’s why they were all there. I didn’t give a reason for my visit when I made the appointment with Johnson.”

“It’s not terribly surprising.” Harry let out a long breath. “You knew it would be an uphill battle.”

“Yes, but I didn’t know I’d be ambushed! They meant to intimidate me, Harry. To frighten me so much that I’d drop my efforts.” She clenched her jaw and glared in anger. “Well, if they think that’s all it takes to silence me, then you’re right: they don’t know who they’re dealing with.”

“That’s our Hermione.” Harry grinned. “You’ll show them yet.”

The wheels in her head were spinning, and as though he could sense it, Draco spoke. “What will you do now?”

Hermione didn’t respond right away, ideas flying through her mind so fast she couldn’t latch onto any yet. After a moment, one caught her focus. “I’m going to speak to the Quidditch League itself. If the Ministry won’t hear me out and follow their own policy or the treaty they made, then I’ll reach out to the League.”

“Um, Hermione?” Harry’s grin faded, and he and Draco exchanged a glance. “If you thought meeting with Games and Sports was hard… the League is even less likely to give you a fair hearing, if you can believe it.”

She looked at him, her gaze steady and fierce. “I know they won’t, Harry.” She looked at him, her gaze steady and fierce. “I’m not naïve in this. But I have to say I at least tried before I bring in a solicitor.”

Harry whistled. “Wow, Hermione. Take it easy. You know the Ministry won’t look too kindly on you if you try to bring charges against them.”

“What else would you have me do?” She glanced between him and Draco, who was frowning deeply at her. 

“I don’t know. And don’t get me wrong, I think you’re absolutely right in this, Hermione, and it seems obvious to me that the Ministry should fight for the pixies, but you could get fired.”

She scoffed. “It’s not as though the Ministry is the only place in the world to work, Harry.” Though, she had no idea what else she might do. But that was a thought for another day, so she pushed it down for the time being. 

“Yeah, but, it’s what you love, yeah?”

Hermione looked at Draco, the only person she’d told about her dissatisfaction with her work. His expression was troubled, but she had no idea what it was about, nor could she ask him right then. 

“Even still, Harry. This is wrong, and it can’t be allowed to happen!” 

She stood up. Harry was a lifelong friend, but he’d never quite understood her desire for attempting to right the wrongs of the wizarding world. He’d always felt so happy just to belong somewhere that he didn’t want to upset the balance. And while she had often felt similarly, it was impossible for her to overlook such injustice occurring right in front of her. Her Department was ready to sign on with the plans to raze the protected pixie forest, breaking a century-old treaty. It only showed that they hadn’t really cared about the pixies in the first place. They’d been content to keep the treaty so long as it didn’t interfere with any of their plans and schemes. Now that there was money to be made, they were eager to level the forest and leave the pixies to relocate on their own. 

“I will fight, Harry. Some things are more important than the security that a job provides. I’m not asking you to join me, but you should know, I’ll see this through.” 

Draco pushed himself off the wall. “Go get ’em, Granger.” 

She smiled at him, grateful to have his support. He hadn’t said he agreed with her, but he wasn’t trying to stop her, either. It was something. “Well, I should get back to work. Thanks for listening, Harry. Draco.” She was halfway to the door when she remembered something. “Oh, Harry, I won’t be here for lunch Friday. I’m leaving early to meet Narcissa and help with the fundraiser.”

“Oh, okay.” He smiled. “I’m sure I’ll see you there.”

“Absolutely.” When she reached the door, she looked at Draco. “I suppose I’ll see you there, as well.”

Draco gave her a peculiar look but said only, “That you will.”

She let her gaze linger on him one heartbeat longer, then left the room. 

“Hermione, wait.” Draco, whose voice she’d recognized instantly, grabbed her arm to stop her.

Her heart leapt into her throat, and she stared at him. “Yes?”

Harry exited the room, eyed them both amusedly, and continued back to his office. Draco gently pulled her to the wall of the hallway. “Listen. If there’s anything I can do, about your efforts with the pixies, don’t hesitate to ask. I know people. I know people who know people. Maybe I can ask around, see what the general vibe is over this. I’d like to help, however I can.” It was only then that he thought to release her arm.

“Thank you, Draco. That’s very kind.” Her smile was a bit forced. “I’ve got things under control for now. But I appreciate the offer, really I do. And if anything comes up that I think you might be able to help me with, I’ll let you know.”

He looked as though he didn’t quite believe her, but Hermione didn’t care at this point. Harry had offered to lend his weight to her efforts as well, but she truly felt that she needed to do this on her own, her way.

* * *

**Friday, JULY 7**

Hermione checked her reflection in the mirror and smoothed down the bright red satin fabric of her dress. It was an off-the-shoulder piece, with little sleeves that crossed over her chest and tucked into the fitted bodice, the darts of which widened out in pleats in the A-line skirt. The back had a neat detail, though she’d never see it: instead of a zipper, there was a long V of criss-crossed ribbon. It was more for looks than function, but she felt pretty in the dress, and that was worth something. 

After triple checking her hair and accessories, Hermione was satisfied and Apparated to the location of the fundraiser. She’d been there all afternoon with Narcissa, making sure the decorations were handled, the caterers were set up in the kitchen, and checking all the other last minute things to ensure it was a successful event. She wanted to help in any way she could since most of the prior preparations were handled without her. By this point, she felt pretty confident in her abilities, and Narcissa increasingly allowed her to take on more and more of the event’s execution. Hermione couldn’t blame her, and truly, she loved running events for Narcissa.

Not only did she adore the woman, but the causes supported by the Malfoy Foundation were always near to Hermione’s heart. The work she did with Narcissa, the time she spent preparing for each event and then seeing them through to the very end, wasn’t even quite work. It was extremely rewarding, being part of something that was making real change in the wizarding world. It was what she’d hoped to accomplish through her work at the Ministry.

The room looked different when Hermione arrived; more of the decorations were in place, and the final touches were being put on the tables. Guests would be arriving within the quarter-hour. Briefly, she wondered where Draco was, but remembered that he’d be bringing a date, and the last thing she wanted to watch was him interacting with someone, whoever that was.

“Oh, Hermione!” Narcissa gasped, clasping Hermione’s arms as she kissed her cheeks. “You are simply stunning, my dear. The dress is perfection.”

Hermione blushed. “Thank you.” 

“It’s nearly time, and I’m truly so excited.” Narcissa glanced around the room. “I don’t think there’s a lot for us to do now. We’ll take a moment to relax, then I’ll go and greet the guests as they arrive.”

“And I will check on the caterer.” She smiled and headed off to complete the little list of right-before-it-starts tasks that she always did. 

Somehow, the next forty minutes flew by in a blink. The guests arrived and were seated, talking amongst themselves or wandering around the room, looking for friends. Hermione hadn’t seen anyone in a bright red dress, and she was feeling a bit self-conscious. But then she saw Luna wearing a flapper dress with sparkly blue feathers and she relaxed. 

When it was time for the meal to begin, Hermione went to the table where her friends were seated. Harry, Ginny, Ron, Pansy, Neville, Hannah, and George greeted her warmly. She was somewhat surprised to see that there was no room left at the table, though she didn’t let it show. Next she headed for Narcissa’s table, a tiny well of hope springing inside that maybe she’d been seated with Draco, but he wasn’t sitting with his mother; she had only seen a flash of his hair across the room once.

“Where am I sitting?” Hermione asked in a whisper.

Narcissa looked surprised. “Why, with Marcus, of course, dear.”

Hermione’s stomach dropped. “And where is that?”

“Table fourteen.” She pointed to a table near the front across the room.

“Thank you.” Hermione left Narcissa and began to walk to her seat. She hadn’t told anyone about her and Marcus breaking up; there’d simply been no opportunity. She’d spent the two weeks since deep in preparations for her meeting with Games and Sports. She hadn’t gone to The Burrow or had dinner with Pansy and Ginny, and even at lunch with Harry the week before, it hadn’t come up, as there had been more pressing things to discuss. The break up had impacted her life so little that she had completely forgotten to even mention it to him.

The only empty seat left at table fourteen was beside Marcus. He beamed at her when he noticed her approaching and stood to help her into her seat. 

When he sat down, he said quietly, “You look amazing.”

“Thank you, Marcus.”

Narcissa stood up and walked to the podium. “Welcome, everyone, to the Sixth Annual Hogwarts Fundraiser. We are so pleased you’ve joined us and continue to join us as we work to improve the experience of magical children all over the United Kingdom. For those of you who are new to this event, welcome. Dinner will be served, and in about twenty minutes, we’ll hear from our guest speaker, who will be elucidating the focus of our night’s venture. Thank you.”

There was some polite applause, but mostly people resumed their conversations. Hermione wondered at Narcissa’s choice of words for a moment; she’d said guest speaker instead of guest of honor, as in previous years. But the difference was so subtle she doubted it meant anything. 

“I have to say, I was surprised to find myself seated beside you.”

Hermione chuckled. “Me too. I suppose I forgot to mention that we’d broken up.”

Marcus sat up straighter. “Oh? I see.”

She heard something like hope in his voice and deeply wished she’d spoken up about ending things with him. 

“I don’t suppose you’ve met my parents?”

She froze mid-chew. “I don’t believe I have.” Merlin, what must they be thinking? There she was, sitting with their son whom she’d broken up with just two weeks prior!

He leaned over and gave her a sheepish smile. “Don’t worry. They don’t know about us.”

Her eyes went wide. “They don’t?”

“Er, no. I’d hoped that, if you’d been open to the courtship process, I would tell them then.”

Hermione felt a rush of anger. He hadn’t even told his parents about a woman he’d been seeing for three months? But the heat faded as quickly as it had come. She hadn’t told her friends that it had ended, so she didn’t have much room to talk. 

Marcus introduced his parents, who seemed genuinely pleased and interested in Hermione. Too bad for them their relationship was already in the past. Dinner went smoothly, and Hermione enjoyed her time. Marcus still had all the same qualities that had attracted her to him: funny, intelligent, handsome. But there was still no sparkle, and it was something of a relief for her. She knew she hadn’t made a mistake in ending things with him.

As they were finishing up their food, Narcissa took the stage again. The room got very quiet; it was always a mystery what particular aspect of Hogwarts improvement the Malfoy Foundation would take up. 

“Again, I thank you for coming tonight. I’m thrilled to introduce our guest speaker for the evening. I am extremely proud of him, not only for his initiative in this venture, but for his heart in the matter. He needs no further introduction, and I can’t wait to let him speak to you himself. Please welcome, my son. Draco Malfoy.” 

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Narcissa was more excited than Hermione had ever seen her as she clapped along with the crowd while Draco stood from his table and made his way to the front of the room.

Hermione’s heart was in her throat as she watched him. He looked extremely dashing in his dress robes, tugging on the cuffs of his shirt as he walked to the podium. 

“Thank you for that generous welcome. I know I’m probably not whom you expected for tonight—usually we hear from distinguished faculty or lead researchers or experts in some field of magic. Always, we point to work at Hogwarts, and I assure you, that part hasn’t changed.” He smiled as he looked over the crowd. For a moment, Hermione thought he paused when he saw her, but she couldn’t be sure. 

“The reason we’re all here is because of that stalwart institution, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I dare say that most of us in this room attended the school and owe much to our time there. Who remembers being a first year student, shaking in fear outside the Great Hall that first night as we waited to be Sorted?” 

Some in the crowd murmured or chuckled.

“Anybody get lost?”

More laughter.

“What about that broken stair? I’m not ashamed to admit that I was late to class more than once thanks to it. As I look around the room, I see nods to our Houses everywhere. A green pocket square, blue necklace, yellow purse, red shoes. We are forever linked to the historic school, and every one of us made friends there that we still have to this day.” 

Hermione saw his eyes land on Pansy with a smile. 

“Now… bear with me. Healers in our world can do so many things, but we all know that sometimes, they can’t fix everything. Sometimes, children are affected, to the point where Hogwarts becomes impossible.”

Now Hermione’s heart started pounding as she felt an inkling of an idea as to where he might be going with this.

“I want to introduce you all to my date tonight. Tabitha, would you join me?”

Hermione brought a hand to her mouth to cover a small gasp. She sensed Marcus look at her, but her eyes were glued on Draco. He was walking toward the side of the stage where a long ramp allowed Tabitha to wheel herself up onto it. He held her hand as they walked together back to the center, where she turned to face the audience. 

“This is Tabitha Leake. I met her in February at St. Mungo’s, where she had checked in for an extended stay in an attempt to undergo an experimental treatment in the hopes of giving her the use of her legs. Sadly, it didn’t work, but we kept in touch. I visited her a few times because, let me tell you, this girl can dominate at chess.”

A light smattering of laughter danced in the room.

“But as you can see, she is bound to this chair. And Hogwarts? It’s out of the question. And Tabitha isn’t the only one for whom the school is out of reach. This is the school where most of us completed our magical educations, grew up, made friends, experienced first loves and first heartaches, went through trials and triumphs. We suffered through homework, Filch, Peeves, howling winds at Quidditch games, detentions, and so much more. These memories, not just those confined to the classrooms, are what make Hogwarts so great. Tabitha turned eleven in April, but no letter came for her, despite the fact that she’d been exhibiting magical tendencies for years. Her parents will do like so many before her and educate her at home.

“But my friend dreams of Hogwarts. She told me so that first time we met. She asked me which House I was in and told me, without hesitation, that she’d be in Slytherin as well, if she was able to go. After spending many hours with her since then, I can attest to this.” He smiled as Tabitha grinned and shrugged her shoulders, unapologetically aware of herself and not the least bit ashamed at the idea she might belong to Slytherin House.

The crowd laughed, clearly enchanted by Tabitha. Hermione was as well, but as adorable as Tabitha was, she couldn’t take her eyes off Draco. He seemed so happy, so relaxed, at ease in a way she’d seldom seen him. 

“Now, let me tell you why we’re here tonight. I have spent the last two months traveling around the world, visiting other schools of magic who have made accommodations for the differently-abled children they serve. I've seen their efforts and learned what is necessary to provide these children the same learning opportunities we were all afforded. Then, together with Headmistress McGonagall, we came up with a plan for updating the castle at Hogwarts. I've met with magical architects, building experts, and engineers, and last month, I presented my findings to the Malfoy Foundation Board of Directors. They approved the project for tonight's fundraiser. We have the plans. Now all we need is you.”

He flicked his wand toward the wall behind him and an image popped up of Hogwarts. As the crowd watched, some sections were removed to make room for new things, including lifts, one of which would go all the way to the top of the Astronomy Tower. “We’ll also be working on a lift system inside, where Tabitha can ride up the staircases with her friends if she wishes. I saw something in the Muggle world that gave me the idea.”

Hermione swallowed hard; he could only have meant an escalator, and she bit back a laugh at the mental image of Draco Malfoy riding one.

When the pictures finished, Draco turned back to the crowd. “Today is the seventh of July. School starts the first of September. We’ve got a lot to do before then, but it’s possible. The proposed changes will require more than we’ve ever tried to raise before. Far more. But this project is worth it, not just for Tabitha, but for all the children who aren’t able to look forward to Hogwarts for various reasons. Our goal this year is one million Galleons, and I believe in this so much that I am pledging ten percent of the necessary funds from my personal vault.”

There were quite a few gasps from around the room. 

“I am confident that we will raise what we need in time to complete the transformations necessary for this coming school year. We’ll begin work as soon as possible and work in phases until all the money is raised.” Draco paused, his eyes scanning the room once more before landing on the table where he’d been seated. Hermione could see Tabitha’s parents there; she recognized them from the Valentine’s Party. 

Then he turned to the girl with a wide smile. “Tabitha, I have something for you. A good friend of mine wanted me to give this to you, and she’s here tonight and would like to meet you later.” Draco pulled an envelope from an inner pocket and handed it to her. 

Tabitha accepted it and stared.

“Do you want to read it?” he asked.

“‘To Tabitha Leake, on the stage, Brockhurst Hotel, London.’” She looked up at Draco, slightly dazed. “Should I open this?”

The guests laughed.

“Yes, go ahead.” Draco beamed.

Tabitha carefully broke the seal Hermione knew so well and pulled out a sheet of parchment folded in half. “‘Dear Tabitha, it is my pleasure and honor to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts…’” Her voice trailed off as she read quickly.

Hermione was grinning ear to ear, but suddenly her vision blurred, and she realized she had tears in her eyes. She wiped them away as she applauded along with everyone in the room. The cheers and clapping went on for a few minutes before Draco motioned for quiet. 

When it was silent once more, he asked Tabitha if she’d like to say anything. 

The girl nodded, still stunned. Then she collected herself and grinned. “I have to thank you, Mr. Malfoy, for being my Knight with Shining White Hair.” Everyone laughed. “And Headmistress, I can’t wait to meet you. And Slytherin, here I come!”

Everyone resumed cheering, and Draco escorted Tabitha off the stage and back to their table, where he was greeted warmly by the girl’s parents.

Narcissa had returned to the stage while Hermione was busy watching Draco. She looked every bit the proud mother she was, and she dabbed her eyes daintily. “You can see why I am so proud. This year’s cause is a bit different from previous years because it is so personal, so close to my son’s heart. I know that you will join us in supporting this very worthy cause. We’ll be serving dessert now and the floor is open for dancing. Draco and Tabitha will lead us off.”

The pair made their way to the dance floor, and the band began playing a lively tune. Draco looked like he was having the time of his life, dancing with Tabitha. Hermione laughed along with the crowd as the girl stole the show. 

After a few minutes, Narcissa asked Tabitha’s father to dance, and other couples began filling the space. 

“Would you do me the honor?” 

Hermione was surprised to see Marcus standing beside her, his hand extended expectantly. “Yes. All right.”

He led her gently to the dance floor and took her in his arms. It felt strange, being so close after ending their relationship. After a moment, Marcus spoke. “You know, when I saw that we were seated together, I got my hopes up. I thought maybe it was some kind of second chance.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, Marcus, I’m so sorry. I should have paid more attention to the seating chart, but Narcissa always handles those.”

“It’s all right. I understand.”

“I do enjoy my time with you. Tonight was… it was nice.” She smiled, though every nerve in her body was on edge.

Marcus chuckled. “Maybe so, but I realize now I never had a chance.”

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re clearly in love with someone else, Hermione.”

She froze, her palms sweaty. “What?”

“Malfoy.” Marcus sighed dramatically. “Watching you watch him just now was like looking through a window straight into your heart. The way you looked at him…” He trailed off, shaking his head and looking anywhere but at her.

Hermione felt awful. “Marcus, I’m so sorry. I don’t think it’s quite all you say it is, though.”

“Is that so?” He looked unconvinced. “And don’t be sorry. I’m glad to know, truthfully. I’d have always wondered what I’d done or didn’t do, but I saw tonight that there was nothing I could have done to turn your heart toward me.”

“It’s… it’s not what you think.” She knew her reply sounded a bit weak and half-hearted, but she wasn’t about to launch into an explanation. She didn’t owe him that, and considering she hadn’t told any of her friends, she wasn’t about to let Marcus be the first person to find out. She had no plans for anyone to find out. 

Marcus only shook his head. “If you thought my family would be difficult with respect to the pureblood courtship customs, you’ve no idea what his family will be like.”

Hermione blushed. “That’s… not even remotely something I need to worry about. Draco and I are not… anything. Except friends. I can’t imagine that will ever change.”

“Uh huh.” He eyed her skeptically. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

“I mean it!” She gave him her most serious expression but dissolved into a fit of laughter. “I do mean it when I say there’s nothing between us. And I’m certain there never will be.”

The song ended and Marcus bowed, kissing her hand. “Good night, Hermione. Thank you for the dance.” 

Marcus melted into the crowd, and though Hermione tried to follow his movements, her friends surrounded her and started peppering her with questions. She fielded them as best she could as she joined her friends at their table. Another song started, and most of them got up to dance. 

Hermione was thirsty, so she found a full, untouched glass of water on her friends’ table and drank half of it without hesitation. At one point, she happened to see that Marcus was talking to Draco, and she was instantly on edge. Would Marcus tell Draco about his suspicions? Surely he wouldn’t; she’d hex him into the next decade if he did. But the interaction was brief, ending with a cordial handshake before Marcus walked away. Draco was immediately surrounded by people wanting to speak with him.

Then Harry dragged her onto the dance floor, and the next half-hour passed quickly in a collage of sound and laughter. 

She flopped down into a chair to take a break, enjoying watching her friends continue to dance and enjoy themselves while her heart rate slowly settled. She wondered where Draco might be; she simply couldn’t let the evening pass without speaking to him. Scanning the room, she found him in conversation with at least three people. Suspecting he might appreciate a break, Hermione grabbed two full glasses of water and started toward him. 

Her nerves started popping, her stomach tightening with every step. Perhaps it was her talk with Marcus that had her so aware of her responses to Draco, but she nearly abandoned her mission four times. Her course already set, none of her misgivings were strong enough to divert her, and she found herself stepping beside him. The wizard and two witches who were listening to him made space for her to join the circle.

Hermione smiled graciously and handed Draco a glass. “I apologize for interrupting. Draco, could I have a moment?”

His eyes were intense as he drank from the glass. Then he turned to his guests. “Forgive me.” They all bowed away quickly, leaving Hermione and Draco alone in the corner. He finished the drink, and she could tell he wanted another. Without a word, she gave him the second glass, which she’d brought for him as well. “Merlin, you’re amazing.” He downed that serving without hesitation. After a long moment of staring at the bottom of the glass, he looked at her. “What did you want?”

“Nothing. I just thought you might want a break.” She backed farther into the corner where there was an empty table and hopped up to sit on it. Draco smirked and followed, though he didn’t join her on the table. Hermione cast a few Obfuscation Charms so that, even though they were in full view of the entire room, hopefully no one would notice them.

“Thank you.” He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. 

Hermione watched Narcissa, who had also been surrounded the entire evening. She was a natural, and never seemed to tire. Draco, on the other hand, wasn’t used to being the focus of attention and she knew he generally preferred not to be. All of her friends except Harry and Ginny were still dancing, which was understandable because Ginny was about a week away from her due date. Ron and Pansy only had eyes for each other, Neville and Hannah were sweet and only a little awkward, and George and Luna were wild and drawing a lot of odd looks. But they didn’t seem to care, which made Hermione smile.

Draco shifted, drawing her gaze. His eyes were still closed but he’d dropped his head and was slowly stretching his neck. When he finished, he let out a sigh and then smiled at her. “Thank you for this little respite. Really.”

She shrugged. “It was nothing. Draco, I know you’ve probably heard a lot of words over the last hour or so, and I don’t mean to add to that load, but… that… what you did… it was incredible. I’m so proud of your work.”

A tinge of pink crept onto his cheeks and he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Hermione quickly continued. “I suppose that’s what you’ve been up to all this time, then? Why you were away from work, out of the country?”

He nodded. “It’s required almost every moment of my spare time in May and June, though once I presented it to the Board, I was able to breathe easier.”

She wanted desperately to ask whether he’d also met someone while traveling, whether the gossip papers Pansy had mentioned were correct, but she couldn’t muster the courage. She felt it would be an obvious show of her own feelings, and after being so effortlessly exposed by Marcus earlier, she simply couldn’t risk it. “How’s the fundraising going? Do you think you’ll hit your goal tonight?” 

They both glanced at the jar sitting on a table near the door. Like the large jars at Hogwarts used to keep a visual record of house points, this one filled with crystals as people pledged or donated toward the cause. Hermione could see that the jar was nearly half-full. 

“Probably not. But once the general public hears about what we’re doing, I’m sure we’ll have a lot of donations come in.” The Malfoy Foundation’s Hogwarts focus was always kept a secret, revealed the night of the fundraiser, and the following day the newspapers covered it for those not invited or involved. “It’s more than we’ve ever collected in a single night, so I’m not terribly worried.” His smile was tired but easy. “Besides, I won’t rest until every Knut is raised.” 

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “And how do you plan to accomplish that?”

He shrugged, gazing out at the crowd, all of whom were still enjoying themselves immensely. “I will fund it myself.”

Hermione frowned. “I thought you couldn’t use the Foundation’s operating funds for any projects.”

Draco didn’t reply right away. “I have my own vault, you know. Separate from my family and the Foundation.” He spoke so quietly, she wasn’t sure he’d meant for her to hear, but then he gave her an expectant, almost hesitant look.

She didn’t understand what he meant to convey, but she filed it away to consider more later. “Ah, I see. So then you can begin work right away, knowing that you’ll cover whatever isn’t raised in time.”

“Exactly. Minerva already knows this.”

A cheer went up, drawing their attention. Tabitha was dancing with Harry, and a small crowd around them was watching and enjoying the sight. Hermione laughed as Harry, holding Tabitha’s hands, tried to twirl but got a bit tangled up. Everyone else was laughing now, too, Tabitha most of all.

“It’s so lovely that you invited her.” Hermione pushed off the table and moved to stand beside Draco. 

He smiled as he watched the dancing, one of those smiles that took her breath away. Was this all that had been behind his good mood the night of Ron and Pansy’s engagement? Pansy had said he was sparkly, claiming that he must be seeing someone, but he appeared just as happy right now as he had then, and to her knowledge, there was no woman involved. Just a girl who’d touched his heart and sent him on a fascinating journey. 

It was on the tip of her tongue again to ask, but then she remembered herself. It wasn’t her place to nose into his personal business. If he wanted to tell her, he would. 

“She was a lot of fun.”

“Well, she’s completely charming. Do you really think she’ll be in Slytherin?”

“I have no doubt.” Draco chuckled as though at some private memory, then tipped his head. “Have you reconsidered my offer?”

“What offer was that?” 

“My assistance with the pixies. I know it’s only been a few days, but I really do think I might have something helpful.” He glanced around the vicinity to make sure nobody was nearby. “Brett Lofton, Vice-President of the British Quidditch League, is married to Maria Lofton, and she heavily supports a few charities revolving around the care of children bitten by werewolves. I’d be happy to offer a donation to one or a few of them in exchange for a meeting with Lofton.” 

Hermione bristled. “No, thank you. That won’t be necessary. I’d really rather not bring bribery into this.”

He scoffed. “It’s not bribery. At least, not directly related to the pixies. It would only be to get you a fair audience with someone high up in the Quidditch organization.”

“I’m sure you mean well.” Hermione smiled at him, doing her best not to let her annoyance with his offer show. “As I said before, I have this handled.” Perhaps he truly didn’t see why she couldn’t accept; money was all he had known, and he’d grown up seeing his father use his wealth to get almost everything he wanted. She couldn’t blame him for falling back on that habit.

The song ended and everybody clapped for a long time. Then Hermione noticed Narcissa glancing around the room as though looking for someone. When her gaze fell on their corner, she headed straight for them.

Draco stood tall as his mother approached, straightening his clothes.

“Here you are, darling. Tabitha is tired and ready to leave.”

He nodded and quickly kissed his mother on the cheek, then turned to Hermione with a slightly apprehensive expression. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Hermione.” 

Narcissa linked her arm through Hermione’s. “Thank you for watching out for him. I knew he was getting overwhelmed by the crowd and the constant attention. The Charms were a nice touch as well.”

Hermione smiled but said nothing. They watched as Tabitha, with Draco by her side, left the ballroom followed by her parents. The crowd dispersed once they were gone and the evening felt complete. 

Narcissa sighed. “Hermione, you’ve been amazing tonight, and I can’t thank you enough. I know there’s more to be done, but just in case I don’t have another quiet moment with you, I want to say it now. I truly appreciate everything you do for the Foundation. Listen, I want you to come to tea soon. Draco told me your meeting Monday didn’t go well, and I’d like to hear all about it. Perhaps we can brainstorm a bit together.”

“I’d like that.”

Narcissa patted her arm, and they started walking toward the door. “Good. I’ll owl you.”

“You must be so proud of Draco.”

The woman didn’t try to hide her smile. “I am. Beyond words. He was magnificent. My face hurts from smiling so much tonight. I’ve never seen him as happy as he’s been the last few months. Oh, Merlin, Hermione. What a night. I’m exhausted.”

Hermione yawned. “It was truly fabulous. I can’t wait to read all about it in the ’papers tomorrow.”

“Yes, I also look forward to that. And we’re nearly halfway to our goal, which is beyond my wildest expectations. You know, of course, how much more we’re going for this year than ever before, but Draco is adamant that we’ll reach the goal.” Narcissa stopped, giving Hermione a very serious look. “I do hope you weren’t upset, dear. I know we kept you out of the loop a bit, but Draco didn’t want anyone to know.” She gave Hermione a quick hug.

“I understand. It was fun to be part of the surprise. I look forward to talking to him about it more.”

Narcissa’s eyes sparkled. “I know he’d like that. Now I must see to my duty as hostess to bid everyone goodnight.” With a long-suffering sigh that Hermione knew wasn’t sincere, Narcissa left. 

Hermione gathered her things and said goodbye to her friends, then Apparated home.

* * *

**Thursday, JULY 13**

Hermione paused outside a nondescript door and double-checked the address Pansy had given her. She was at the right place but was surprised by the exterior. It was a wizarding establishment in the heart of a Muggle neighborhood, so it was designed to appear abandoned, but considering this was a high-end bakery, she had expected… well, not quite this.

No matter.

She opened the door and was immediately greeted by a very posh witch. “Parkinson?”

Hermione blinked. “Er, no, I’m—”

“Are you here for the Parkinson tasting?” She sounded impatient, as though Hermione were an idiot.

“Yes.” Best to keep things short and to the point.

“This way.” Hermione rolled her eyes and followed the witch, who led her down a brightly lit hallway. “In here.” She opened a door and began walking back toward the front. 

Hermione went to the room and peeked in, relieved when she saw Pansy sitting on a chair. As she opened the door farther to walk through, she saw, to her surprise, that Draco was there as well, in a chair facing Pansy. They’d been in the middle of a conversation, but it stopped when Draco’s eyes shifted from Pansy to her. 

“Brilliant!” Pansy jumped up and kissed Hermione’s cheek. “You’re here. Have a seat.” She returned to her chair and motioned toward a short sofa which was arranged with the chairs and an ornate, gilded coffee table. “Daphne will join us later, if she can. And Ginny is unavailable due to being too large. Her words, not mine.”

Gingerly, Hermione took a seat exactly in the middle of the sofa, thankful that there was one cushion instead of two. She didn’t have to fret over which of her friends to sit closer to. 

“Oh, and Draco is here because he has excellent taste.” Pansy smiled at her friend.

Draco quirked an eyebrow in amusement. “I do hope you don’t expect me to tag along for all your wedding planning, Pans.”

“No, of course not.” She winked at Hermione. “But who wouldn’t want to eat cake for an hour?”

Hermione spluttered. “An hour?”

“It’s fine! They give you other things between cake bites to cleanse the palate. Daphne said this place was her favorite. I’ll even treat you to dinner after.” 

A man entered the room, a gold tray holding three glasses of champagne in one hand. Without a word he served them and departed. 

Pansy held up her glass. “Cheers!” They all took a sip, then she set her glass down. Soon another man entered bearing trays of food, which he set on the coffee table. After explaining the types of cake they were about to try, he left. Pansy clapped her hands and reached for the closest one. “Shall we?”

Hermione glanced at Draco. He was the picture of elegance and comfort, as though he’d been in dozens of such establishments before, and even if he hadn’t, nothing could faze him. It made sense Pansy would want her wedding to be extravagant, but Hermione had never seen the point. 

“Where’s Ron?” she asked, tasting her first sample. It was surprisingly delicious. 

“He couldn’t make it. Had a work thing. He was disappointed but said as long as he didn’t miss the tasting session with the caterers, he could miss this one.” She laughed. 

Hermione chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

“How’s the pixie project going?” Pansy pulled a grape off a stem and popped it into her mouth. 

Hermione was a little surprised at the question, mainly because Pansy had never seemed all that interested in what was happening with the pixies. Hermione had told her a little about her efforts when they’d taken Ginny’s favorite take-away over in lieu of their usual dinner out earlier in the week. Ginny hadn’t quite felt up to going out. “There have been no developments since the last time I saw you. So it’s going as well as can be expected, I suppose.” She didn’t want to share just how disheartened she felt by it all. 

Draco swallowed his first bite of cake. “It could be going a lot better, but she keeps refusing my help.”

Hermione whipped her head around to look at him in surprise. He was grinning lazily, as though his statement had been about his favorite type of tea and not a jab that he’d been making more than she liked lately. “Draco! I’ve told you before that I have a reason for what I’m doing. I am working through the system, step by step, and I intend to follow this course through to its end. I’m not looking for shortcuts or special favors.”

His expression was hard to read, but he didn’t say anything more, instead merely inclining his head and turning his attention back to the food.

After her first sample, Pansy made herself a plate of some of the other offerings—crackers, cheese, fruit, and sausage—and now she changed the subject. “Hermione, how are things with Marcus?”

She nearly choked on her piece of cake. Merlin, she still hadn’t told her friends—not that she’d seen any of them since the fundraiser, and that certainly wasn’t the time to discuss it. Draco gave her a glass of water and she took a long drink, searching desperately for a way out of the conversation. Nothing materialized. “Oh, um, actually, we broke up.”

“What?” Pansy practically screeched, lurching forward in her chair to gape at Hermione. “What do you mean, you broke up? What happened? When? Do I need to hex him?”

Hermione felt Draco’s gaze on her but she refused to look at him. “Well, it was near the end of June—”

Pansy gasped. “June? _June?_ But it’s July! And you’re only now telling me?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t really seen you. Or anyone. I’ve not had occasion to tell. Anyone.” Her explanation was lame and she knew it, but there’d been no cause for her to seek out her friends just to tell them. Again, she realized it had impacted her life so little that she hadn’t felt inclined to do it.

“Um, hello? I’m an owl away! Are you all right? What did he do? What happened?”

Hermione chuckled nervously and took another drink of water. “He didn’t do anything, Pansy. It was very amicable. Let’s see, though. How did it happen? First, he asked if he could call me his girlfriend. But then quickly moved on to how his family wants him to settle down and take his place at the head of the family? And all that entails. He said he was ready for all of that—leading the family, marriage, a family—and he said he could see that with me. That he wanted us to go down that path, knowing what was at the end. He said he wanted to begin the pureblood courtship traditions.”

They both stared at her, eyes wide, though she could hardly look at Draco.

“What did you say?” Pansy asked.

“He asked me to think about it. To not say anything right away. And I did think about it. In the end, there wasn’t much to consider. I simply couldn’t say yes to him. I wasn’t at all ready for all of that.”

Pansy looked at Draco. “Don’t you think that’s strange?”

He winced as though he’d hoped nobody would remember he was present. “Think what’s strange, Pansy?”

She gave him a withering look. “That he would want to, you know, follow all the courtship rubbish. I mean, why? Either he’d have said that from the beginning or he’d have waited until he was very, very sure about you.” Pansy frowned in thought. “And how could he have been sure? They’d only been dating a few months, and hadn’t seen each other that often. I know because I kept track.”

Hermione’s eyes flew wide. “What?”

“I’m nosey. Anyway. What do you think, Draco?” 

Draco rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I think if you know, you know. Aren’t you the one who proposed to Ron after six months? How’s that any different?”

Hermione felt a rush of gratitude toward him. She’d been worried she might have to try and defend herself against them both.

Pansy huffed. “Well, yes, but—” She turned to Hermione. “I thought you liked him? Things were going well, yeah? That’s what you said last we talked about it, anyway.”

“They were going well, and I did, I liked him fine. But that was all, only fine, and it’s like you said at dinner that night with Ginny. There was nothing…”

“Sparkly.” Pansy sighed. 

Hermione nodded. “Right. Besides, it was just too much, too fast. And even though I enjoyed being around him, there were things I knew would need serious consideration and discussion if our relationship progressed, and I wasn’t ready to put in the work for that yet. So, when he wanted me to commit to so much, I simply couldn’t.” She risked a glance at Draco; he was the only person she’d told about some of the incompatibilities between her and Marcus. He was frowning at the food on the table. 

“Ahh. That’s understandable. I still think he handled it all very strangely.” 

“Which is another reason I didn’t tell anybody, because… I don’t know, it just didn’t impact my life at all.” She felt awful admitting it, but it was true. There’d been no heartache, no sadness, no nothing.

Pansy snorted a laugh. “Oh, that’s priceless. That would knock Marcus’ ego down a peg or two. Maybe you should tell him.”

Draco coughed, probably to cover a laugh, and Hermione bit back a smile. She was more than ready to change the subject.

But then Pansy gasped, her eyes flying wide. “Wait just a minute! The fundraiser was just Friday! You were with him then, right?”

Hermione cringed. “Well? Remember how I hadn’t told anybody we’d broken up? I meant it, and Narcissa, not knowing, seated me beside him for the evening.”

Pansy laughed. “Oh, Hermione, I bet that was awkward! I wish I could have been there to watch!”

“Very funny. But yes, it was terribly awkward at first. We were sitting with his parents, and I thought for sure that they would hate me because I’d just broken up with their son, but as it turned out, he hadn’t even told them about me.” It was by far the strangest thing from her entire relationship with Marcus. 

“What?” 

“It’s true. He introduced me and they were so kind, asking me how long I’d known Marcus, when we’d met.” She dropped her head in her hands. “It was awfully embarrassing, though thankfully, they weren’t aware of any of it. Marcus was the most embarrassed of all, and rightfully so. Other than that, the meal passed pleasantly enough.”

Pansy looked at Draco. “What do you make of that, him not telling his parents?”

He frowned slightly. “Parental involvement is required for Courtship, of course. Perhaps he wanted to wait until he was sure before he told his parents? I don’t know, I can’t begin to guess. But it is surprising.”

“You danced with him.” Pansy pointed a finger accusingly.

Hermione sighed. “Yes. He’d asked me that day we broke up if I’d save a dance for him.”

There was silence for a full beat, then Draco spoke. “Marcus’ family made a sizable donation.”

“That’s wonderful, Draco! How’s the fundraising going?”

“We’re three-quarters of the way there,” he replied with one of his easy smiles. He used them often when he spoke of the work he’d been doing, and as she thought back to previous conversations, she recognized it in the same context. It was such a delightful expression that she wondered if anything else might draw it from him.

“Will the work begin soon?” 

“I believe so. I’m meeting with Minerva in a couple of days to discuss it.”

Pansy used her wand to refill their plates with a few more cake bites. “And you’re okay, Hermione? Really?” 

She smiled. “I’m fine. I realized I wasn’t ready for what he wanted. I couldn’t commit to him right then, knowing that, in the end, he wanted to marry me.”

“Well, with Marcus at least. As Draco reminded me, when you know, you know.” She held up the hand where her engagement ring rested and wiggled her fingers.

Hermione sighed. “I’ll have to take your word for it. I mean, maybe if we’d been together longer, perhaps something would have changed?”

Pansy considered this. “I’m sure it’s possible. With Ron, I knew right away. Ginny said she knew right away with Harry, too.”

“Forgive me, Draco.” Hermione cast him an apologetic look, then turned back to Pansy. “Astoria thought she knew a long time ago as well. She was adamant about that.”

To her surprise, Draco responded instead of Pansy. “But I never felt the same way. In the two cases Pansy mentioned, both parties reciprocated.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “You sound like a bloody textbook, Draco. But you’re right, of course. You can’t really _know_ until you’re able to be with someone. To share with him, to be open, be fully yourself. I didn’t know about Ron until he kissed me, which, granted, was our first date, but we felt the same.”

Hermione was happy for her friends but she couldn’t help feeling a little left out. At least Draco was in the same position. “So, what are these courtship traditions Marcsus was talking about? I’ve been curious ever since he mentioned it. It’s not something I’ve ever seen referenced in books and I’ve really only been close with the Weasleys, who don’t subscribe to them.”

Pansy looked at Draco. “Go ahead. Tell her.”

He sat up straighter. “Why me?”

“Because, you’re… you know.” She waved her hands before her, as though that answered everything. “You’re you.”

“And you think I have a better working knowledge of the courtship traditions?”

She sniffed. “You’re a Malfoy, so you’d better have a better working knowledge of pureblood courtship traditions.”

He shrugged. “Be that as it may, it doesn’t mean I have any intentions of following them. I’ve not paid much attention to that since I was much younger.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it. Do you really think your mother would let you out of it all?” Pansy gave him a superior, skeptical look.

Draco rolled his eyes. “You’re one to talk. You’re not following them!”

“Well, Ron—”

“Is a pureblood.”

“True, but… he doesn’t run in our circles.”

Draco looked at her like bemusedly.

“I don’t want to do any of that anyway,” Pansy said with a dramatic huff. “Ron hasn’t mentioned it. I don’t think he’d be interested, either. His family doesn’t hold to those traditions, right Hermione?” 

Hermione nodded. “I’ve been to many Weasley weddings, been friends with many Weasleys through the whole dating process, and I’ve never heard of these customs.”

Pansy gave Draco a smug look, though Hermione couldn’t fathom why. All she was doing was proving Draco’s point that he didn’t need to adhere to them, either. “My mother happens to not really care what I do, so I’m doing what I want.”

“As you should. And when it’s my turn, I’ll do what I want. Unless, you know, my… er, intended wants to do the full-out thing.”

“You can’t even talk about it normally. Your _intended?_ Only the Malfoy scion would use such language.”

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but Hermione still wanted her original question answered. Though she was very curious to hear more about Draco’s thoughts on the subject. “Can you tell me what it involves?”

He gave Pansy a look between a glare and a smirk, then turned to address her. “It’s a formal contract. Families meet together and discuss terms, how many dates you’ll go on, who’ll be present. It’s very formal and stiff and—”

“Our parents did it,” Pansy interrupted.

“I have no interest in doing something just because my parents did. I tried that, remember? It didn’t end well.” He made a half-hearted motion toward the arm that had borne the Dark Mark. “It’s nothing special or terribly binding, a formal set of rules about the relationship. But it is serious, and it’s considered to be something like a pre-engagement.”

“So he kind of asked me to marry him?”

“Not technically, no. But if you’d agreed, you’d have been stating, to him and both your families, that unless something extraordinary happened, an engagement was to be expected at the end of the agreed upon period of time.”

“What happens if someone breaks the courtship?”

Draco shrugged. “Depends on what the terms were. Engagements are nearly as serious as marriage; breaking that could be detrimental to the offending family’s status or wealth.”

“See?” Pansy threw a napkin at him. “You know all kinds of pureblood things.”

“As I said, though, I’ve no intention of doing any of them.” He threw the napkin back at her. 

“Why not?” Hermione asked before she could stop herself.

He was still smiling when he turned his gaze on her. “Call it overexposure to pureblood customs growing up. Most of them are wearisome, tedious, and irrelevant. Astoria mentioned it the night of the fundraiser in April, and I struggled to get through the rest of the ‘date.’ I think she thought it would appeal to me, that it would be something we had in common.”

Pansy snorted. “Well, as fun as that side topic was, let’s get back to Marcus. He basically asked you to commit to saying yes when he did finally ask you to marry him. Assuming, as Draco mentioned, nothing extraordinary happened along the way. And considering the way he was looking at you at the fundraiser…” Pansy raised her eyebrows significantly and fanned herself. “I thought for sure you’d be getting lucky. I had no clue you two weren’t together.”

“Pansy!” Hermione blushed crimson. 

Draco shifted his weight, setting down his empty plate. “I’d wondered why Marcus had left and you were still there. Then I figured it was just because you always stay and help Mother. But then I thought Marcus ought to stay with you anyway, since he was… you know, your boyfriend—except, apparently, not really. However, I thought he was, so he should have stayed. In my opinion. Unlike that tosser in April.”

Hermione laughed uncomfortably. “No, not like that.”

Draco turned to Pansy to explain. “Hermione’s date for the April fundraiser was someone from the speed dating thing she went to. He was terrible. He—what was his name again?”

“I don’t remember!” Hermione laughed. 

“Was it Joey?” he suggested.

“Joey doesn’t sound quite right.” She thought for a moment. “Tony. I think. Tony?”

“Yes!” He smiled triumphantly. “I think it’s Tony. Anyway. He was Hermione’s date to the fundraiser—”

Pansy interrupted. “You told me all about this when we were at The Burrow a few months ago, remember? With Ginny and Luna?” She smirked. “I don’t remember him much, but I _do_ remember your dress. The one I said he didn’t deserve for a second date.”

Draco cleared his throat. “Well, anyway. As you must know, then, Tony ended up flirting with someone else entirely and even going home with her, and I thought it was simply awful.”

“Draco wanted to go… what, not yell at him, certainly, that wouldn’t do. Speak to him sternly?” 

“I had a few choice words lined up and ready, I’m not ashamed to say.”

Hermione grinned at him, so happy to be laughing with him about that night. She still felt a hitch in her throat at the memory of Astoria on his arm, but it was fading. Sometimes her heart simply needed reminding that he wasn’t with the younger witch and that didn’t seem likely to change any time soon.

Pansy cleared her throat, drawing their attention. Her eyes were wide, and she looked slowly from Hermione to Draco and then back to Hermione. Then she shook her head as though dazed and stared at the spread of food for a long moment. Hermione exchanged a glance with Draco, who seemed equally perplexed by Pansy’s behavior. Then she looked up with a faraway look in her eyes. “Okay. Wow. Um, all right. So. Let’s talk cake, shall we?”

* * *

**Friday, JULY 14**

“Beef Wellington. One of my favorites.” Harry set his tray down on the table and slid into his chair.

Hermione grinned. “I saw that. I went with a chicken salad.”

“How’s your week been?” He hastily threw his napkin onto his lap and tucked into the food.

She thought about the bizarre evening with Pansy, Draco, and eventually Daphne, the night before, but that was only her most recent outing. 

“Mine’s been exhausting. With Ginny due any minute, every time she gasps or pauses or looks at her birth kit, I shoot into a frantic tailspin. But she keeps insisting she’s fine. In fact, last night we had se—”

Just then, Draco appeared beside their table, slightly out of breath. “Potter. Ginny. She’s—”

“In labor?” Harry jumped up, sending his chair flying across the floor. 

Draco nodded.

“Hermione, I’ll see you later.”

“Yes! Go!” she cried, shooing him away. She stared at her food, debating whether she should finish eating before following Harry or just leave it. After half a second of thought, she decided to take the lunch with her—along with Harry’s—and head to The Burrow. 

“What do you need?” Draco asked, as though he could read her thoughts.

She looked toward the food service area, hoping to see something she could put the food in. “Containers. One for me, one for Harry’s food.”

“I’ll get them.”

Hermione turned to smile at him, but he was already striding purposefully across the cafeteria. He’d taken off his outer robes for his sprint through the Ministry, allowing her a rare, and rather pleasant, view of his arse in his fit trousers. She swallowed hard, then sent off a brief memo to her boss, telling him she needed to take the rest of the day off. 

Draco returned after a few moments, handed her a container, then began shoveling Harry’s food into the other. He stacked it on top of hers while Hermione gathered her things. She’d left her jacket in her office, but that was no matter; she hardly needed it outside the artificially cooled interior of the Ministry. 

“Thank you, Draco.” She gave his forearm a brief squeeze of appreciation. 

He looked down to where her hand rested, blinking in surprise as she removed it and picked up the food. “Of course. I’ll… see you around, Hermione.”

She’d started for the door but turned around to wave. “See you!”

* * *

**Sunday, JULY 16**

At one-eleven in the morning, after laboring for over thirty-six hours, Ginny gave birth to a baby girl. The proud parents named her Eloise Ruth.

* * *

**Wednesday, JULY 19**

The main office of the British and Irish Quidditch League had a very different feel from the Department of Games and Sports. While it was obvious that they had far more resources at their disposal, the League took a simpler approach to décor. Instead of modern, they went classic: rich woods, antique furniture, old maps and paraphernalia on the walls. It was cozier, but only slightly because everything she could see was probably worth more than her yearly salary.

It had the look of wanting to appear inviting but nothing more. 

“Hermione Granger. I have an appointment.”

There was no posh witch at the reception desk. Instead, a young, fit wizard manned the large, mahogany desk, and he smiled as he found her name on the schedule. “Right this way, Miss Granger.” She was led to a small meeting room with large windows overlooking a full-sized Quidditch Pitch. “Would you like some water?”

“No, thank you.” She smiled politely.

The wizard nodded and left her alone. The décor in the meeting room matched the parts of the building she’d seen, but the windows were a welcome change. The view was breathtaking; if there’d been a match going, she’d have had the best view. Beyond the pitch was forest as far as she could see. 

At the sound of the door opening, Hermione turned around. A man not much older than Hermione entered, his smile wide. He left the door open, which put Hermione at ease.

“Hello. I’m Harold Gray, one of the Administrators here at the League.” He held out his hand and she shook it. 

“Hermione Granger.”

“Shall we sit?” Harold indicated the conference table, and they sat catty-corner at one end. Then he cleared his throat and looked down at his notes. “I have to say, Miss Granger, it’s an honor to meet you. I’ve read so much about you and what you went through in the war.”

Hermione forced herself to smile, instantly wary of where this conversation might go. The last thing she wanted to do was field questions about her time on the run with Harry. “That’s me.”

He nodded vigorously, then glanced back at his notes. “So, Miss Granger. I see that you want to talk about the new Quidditch stadium in Caerphilly?”

“Yes. That’s correct. Specifically, I wanted to discuss your plans for the forest.”

Harold’s eyes brightened. “Oh, it’s a lovely area. I’ve been there myself to scout it out. It’s going to be the perfect spot for the new stadium.”

Her smile tightened. “Were you aware, Mr. Gray, that the forest is currently home to a large and thriving pixie community?”

Instantly, his demeanor changed. Where he had been warm and friendly, he now became closed. He still smiled, but it was mechanical. “Pixies you say?”

She opened her briefcase and extracted a small stack of parchment. She slid them across the table and waited for him to examine the document. “As you can see, the Ministry signed a contract with the Pixie Queen over a hundred years ago giving them the forest for their home. In perpetuity. I’m afraid you’re going to have to find a new home for Caerphilly.” She tried her best to sound sympathetic.

Harold’s eyes moved along the parchment too quickly for him to be reading it. “I see. Thank you for bringing this to me. Is this the original?”

Hermione nearly laughed but held it back, instead giving him a saccharine smile. “No. The original is on file at the Ministry. That’s a copy for you and your legal department to keep.”

He shifted awkwardly in his chair, then gave her a blank look. “I will certainly pass this along. I’m afraid I don’t have much to tell you, since I’m not part of Legal or any other major decision making department. I can’t really speak about what’s been done for the inhabitants of the forest.”

It was interesting the way the League had sent a nobody to meet with her, someone who couldn’t make decisions or give her any promises or real answers. It was a fascinating juxtaposition with Games & Sports, who sent her before the entire Committee to be talked down to and intimidated. This was nicer but the message was essentially the same.

“Oh, well, you’re in luck then, because I’ve spoken with the Pixie Queen, and she told me that nobody has come to her about this matter. I suppose you’ll want to address that in your next meeting. Would you like to write that down? I’ll wait.” She sat ramrod straight, primly folding her hands in her lap.

Harold fumbled for a quill, then scribbled something on the back of the last piece of parchment she’d given him. She’d have bet ten Galleons he hadn’t written actual words. 

“She also said that they’re not interested in relocating, and she hoped the Ministry would adhere to their agreement.”

“Ah, I see.” He sighed dramatically and shrugged. “It sounds like it’s out of our hands, then. It’s between the Ministry and the Queen. I’m not sure what you expected when you came here, but it sounds like you need to take it up with the Ministry.”

Hermione clenched her jaw. “Here’s what you can do, Mr. Gray. You can go to your boss and tell him that, as the British and Irish Quidditch League, you have the power, influence, and resources to secure a different location, one that isn’t currently home to a large group of magical beings. You can reach out to the pixies and discuss the matter with them. I’m sure you have the resources necessary to help them find a new home, if that’s an agreement you can both come to.”

He tittered affably, then nervously shuffled the parchment to get all the sheets aligned, then stood. “I will certainly pass the message along, Miss Granger.” He moved toward the door. 

Annoyed but not surprised that she was clearly being dismissed, Hermione stood and stiffly walked out the room. 

“We do appreciate you coming down. It’s always good to hear from our fans.” Harold flashed an exaggerated smile that showed too many teeth. He walked with her toward the lobby and stopped just before reaching it. “Please, feel free to stop by any time. I’d be happy to take you on a personal tour of the facility. We’ve got a museum dedicated to the history of Quidditch. Oh! That reminds me. Which of our illustrious teams is your favorite?”

It was all she could do not to roll her eyes. She didn’t have a favorite team, of course, and she almost told him so, but then she thought of Ron and how much he’d enjoy seeing a game. “Chudley.”

Harold chuckled, then realized she was serious and spluttered. “Oh, oh right, sure. Hang on one moment.” He darted through a nearby door and returned in less than two minutes. “Here you are, two of our best seats to see the Cannons.”

If she hadn’t cared for Ron as much as she did, she would have ripped the tickets in half. She tucked them into her beaded bag instead, then levelled him with a hard glare. “Mr. Gray, I don’t watch a lot of Quidditch, but I can say this. I will never set foot inside a League match again if you raze the forest and displace the pixies. Have a nice day.” She spun on her heel and walked out.

* * *

**Sunday, JULY 23**

Tea with Narcissa was always a delight, and today was no exception. Once they were settled at the table, napkins out and tea prepared, they moved quickly past the small talk and into plans for October’s foundation event. There wasn’t a whole lot to think about so early, but they crossed a few items off the never-ending list.

“Oh, Draco had an idea that I wanted to run by you.” Narcissa pulled her list back out. 

“Where is he? Usually he presents his ideas in person.” Hermione took another sip of her tea.

Narcissa blinked, surprised, then sighed. “I don’t understand my son sometimes. I take it, then, he hasn’t told you?”

Hermione froze mid-sip, a flash of adrenaline coursing through her as she prepared for some kind of bad news. “No. I haven’t seen him since he came to the cafeteria where Harry and I were eating to tell Harry that Ginny was in labor. Is everything all right?”

“Of course, dear.” Narcissa smiled and waved her hand. “It’s nothing, really. He’s taken a leave of absence from the Ministry and rented a house in Hogsmeade. He wanted to be close to Hogwarts during the renovations. Minerva has entrusted him with managing the entire project, which is an honor he is taking very seriously. He adores this project so much. I’ve never seen him this happy.”

Now that her initial apprehension had passed, Hermione smiled. “That’s wonderful, Narcissa. Tell me about his idea.”

“He thought we might work on something to help families with supplies for school. Especially those families who, like Tabitha, didn’t expect to be going to Hogwarts and might need some extra help. We could collect basic supplies and distribute them.”

“That’s lovely! I’ve heard of Muggles doing something similar. Does he want us to take the lead on this? Or is he planning on taking this on as well?”

Narcissa looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure. I’ll speak with him more the next time I see him. I’d think we should set something up soon, perhaps a separate fund, as these families will be thinking about Hogwarts as September nears.” She wrote a few lines on her list. “Maybe early in August.”

“We could ask for donations from different shops and surprise people with them as they shop.” Her heart couldn’t help but swell at the thought of Draco’s idea. 

“And I think it would be good to let people donate as well. I’m so pleased you like the idea.” Narcissa’s smile faltered. “Forgive me for the abrupt change in subject, but a little bird told me that you and Marcus Flint broke up. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. I promise.” Hermione gave her a reassuring smile. “He was ready for more than I was. It was a friendly breakup, if such a thing exists.” 

Narcissa watched her closely. “I see. You seem all right, so I’ll take your word for it.” After making a selection of which tea things to eat, she continued. “Tell me about your meeting with the League.”

After giving her a brief synopsis, Hermione concluded by saying that she wasn’t surprised but still disappointed. “I’m honestly not sure which method of dismissal I prefer. The intimidation tactic or the kind but ineffectual lackey with promises to ‘pass the information along.’ They both made me angry.”

“Why won’t you let me help you? Beyond the use of our library, I mean. I know Draco has offered, he’s told me so on more than one occasion.”

Hermione smiled tightly, not wanting to offend her friend or get into an argument. “I’ll tell you like I’ve told him. There is a process for airing one’s grievances, and until that avenue has been completely exhausted, I will continue down that path.”

“You know I can call in favors, though, darling. It wouldn’t be anything untoward, merely a nudge here, a push there. I know how much this means to you.”

“Thank you, Narcissa. I know. Believe me, Draco and I have had a few similar conversations, and I appreciate your desire to help. I promise that I’ll come to you if I need anything.”

Narcissa inclined her head graciously. “I’m glad you know that I’m here for you.”

“Oh, absolutely. And I can’t thank you enough.” Hermione was anxious to move away from the topic of the pixies. She hoped both Narcissa and Draco would come to understand her position on accepting their assistance—and soon. As much as she appreciated them and valued their advice, this was something she had to do on her own. “Tell me about your visit to Lyon last week! I’m excited to hear all about the gastronomic capital of France!”

* * *

**Sunday, JULY 30**

The Sunday evening dinner crowd was slightly thinner than other weekend nights, but only just. What had started as an outing to help Pansy choose a gift for Ron had turned into a monthly standing dinner date between Pansy, Ginny, and Hermione. Since Ginny was keeping close to home following Eloise’s birth, Pansy had insisted that Hermione still join her. 

As soon as they sat down, Pansy took a sip of her drink and leaned forward on the table, peering intensely at Hermione. “I’m glad it’s just us, to be honest. There’s something I need to talk to you about.” 

“Oh?” Hermione felt instantly alarmed. “Is everything all right?”

Pansy waved irritably, as though swatting away a bug. “Yes, yes, everything’s fine. But you.” She held up a finger and pointed accusingly at Hermione. “How long have you had feelings for Draco?”

“What?” Hermione forced her breathing to stay completely even. 

“Please don’t insult me by pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about. I was with you two just a week ago, and I am not an idiot. Maybe a bit slow to notice things, since I tend to skip around and never stay in one place or thought very long.”

“There’s nothing to discuss.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Didn’t I just tell you not to insult me?”

Hermione leaned on the table as though she were about to tell Pansy a juicy secret. “Pansy, please don’t take this the wrong way. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you better over the last several months, but the truth is that I just don’t quite trust you enough for this conversation.”

For a moment, Pansy started to act offended. Her eyes widened, she pulled away, hand flying to her chest, mouth open to retort, but then she stopped and huffed. “That’s fair.” She considered Hermione for a moment. “All right, let’s do it this way. I think he likes you.”

There was a violent skip in Hermione’s heartbeat, but again, she kept her features even. She even managed to give Pansy a skeptical look. “What makes you think that?”

“I know Draco. Or it’s intuition. I don’t really know, but I could practically feel it at the cake tasting. I realized I hadn’t ever been alone with just you two, and seeing you interact with each other was eye-opening.”

Hermione stacked her hands on the table, elbows out to the sides. “Pansy. We’re friends. We’ve been friends a long time. He’s never done anything to even remotely suggest he likes me.”

Pansy’s eyes narrowed for an instant, then sprung open in triumph. “He has! Speed dating!”

She waited for Pansy to go on, then gave up. “Speed dating? Pansy, that was months ago! And he didn’t do anything that night to suggest he had any interest in me. We talked about the other people we’d met, and yes, it was the most relaxed five minutes of the night for me, but that was because I knew him and he was my friend.”

“I think he went there for you.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Then he didn’t do a good job of it, did he? He managed to go the entire evening—and every single day since then, mind you—without achieving his goal. If he’s so interested in me, why hasn’t he asked me out? He had no trouble with Astoria.”

Pansy was ready with a quick reply. “Astoria was a sure thing. There was no risk; he knew she’d say yes. And, besides that, he had nothing to lose with her. With you, you’re one of his best friends, and he is probably scared to lose that.”

As much as Hermione wished it were true, there simply wasn’t enough evidence. “Pansy, I’ve barely seen him the last few months. If he’s harboring secret feelings for me, he’s doing a great job of keeping them secret.”

“Well, that’s something we can agree on.” Pansy bit her lip in thought. 

Hermione needed to put an end to this line of discussion before it got too out of hand or too near her own feelings. “You said this same thing in February. Nothing happened before that, nothing has happened since.”

“I didn’t say this in February. What I said then was that I’d told him I thought you two would be a good match.”

Hermione spread her hands, palms up. “And here we are, five months later, and nothing.”

Pansy looked put out. “Have you seen him lately?”

“As a matter of fact, I haven’t. When I saw Narcissa recently, she said that he’s renting a house in Hogsmeade to be close to Hogwarts. The last time I saw Draco was at your cake testing.” She hoped that would put an end to the conversation. Just the thought that he might like her, after she’d spent months refusing to even consider the possibility, had her heart racing. But no, it couldn’t be true.

**ooo**

Long after dinner with Pansy was over, Hermione lay in bed, allowing herself to look at the recent months through a different lens. She wanted to go over everything she could remember to see if there might be some truth to what Pansy claimed. It was hard to be objective, but even if she assigned meaning to some of his words and actions, they weren’t all that different from how he’d always been. And Hermione didn’t think he’d been pining for her for years. Yes, their relationship had grown and deepened, so they were more familiar and comfortable now, but that wasn’t necessarily, or even logically, attributable to feelings on his part. It could easily be explained by the passage of time and the natural progression of their friendship.

While there might have been a handful of things that stood out, other behavior on his part negated those things in her mind. Their friendship had been strong all along, and it was easy to dismiss everything as being a result of that. 

More than that, she couldn’t let herself dwell on the possibility. She simply didn’t feel confident that her feelings were, in any way, reciprocated; if anything, she thought he was pulling away, finding other things to occupy his time instead of spending his free time with her and her friends.

Still, as she drifted to sleep, that flicker of hope remained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience this month! I've been doing Camp NaNoWriMo, and editing got pushed aside until nearly the last possible moment. BUT, here we are, and I hope you liked it! Thank you for all the lovely comments and for sticking with this story! We're over halfway through the year!


	8. August

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione continues her quest for the pixies, accompanies Pansy at a wedding dress boutique, and has a heart-to-heart with a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is being written for Dramione FanFiction Writers 2020 Challenge. FOR AUGUST, the challenge was to write a story completely using documents such as letters, notes, journal entries, articles, etc. I couldn't quite do that for the entire chapter, but I decided to write one entire "day" in this format. Plus there's another section with letters. Hope you like it!
> 
> Many thanks to dormiensa for the beta job, and endless praises go to dreamsofdramione, who not only betas, but also alphas, made a page of notes for me for help in plotting this story, AND makes a graphic for each chapter.
> 
>   
>    
> 

**Tuesday, AUGUST 1**

Hermione barely had time to look at her planner. She had a meeting with the Department of Magical Lands and Sanctuaries at nine, and she couldn't risk being late. A cursory glance revealed that her days were peppered with meetings on the pixie situation. She knew there would be outings with Pansy, as she'd latched onto Hermione as a de facto Maid of Honor since Millicent Bulstrode, her actual Maid of Honor, was on an extended assignment in the United States and wouldn't be able to fulfill many of the traditional duties.

But considering everything she'd been through with her schedule and safeguarding her time, it was a surprisingly light month. Her magical painting classes had resumed, which occupied her one night a week. She thought she was close to being able to bring some life into her creations, though perhaps only in a breath of wind or something small. It took years of study to achieve Mastery, and while it wasn't her aim to paint something worthy of being hung in a museum or a great house, she was extremely interested in the magic involved and hoped to progress, at her own pace, until she could learn some of that.

She'd also decided to try a book club because she loved to read and discuss books, and the group only met once a month. Surely that wouldn't feel overwhelming.

Hermione shut her planner, grabbed her notes, and bustled out. She hoped her meeting with Lands and Sanctuaries was more successful than… well, any of the other meetings she'd had.

Lands and Sanctuaries was even more neglected than Hermione's own department. They were tucked into the back hallways of the same floor as Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, a few doors down from there, in fact. Everything looked like it belonged at least five decades in the past. The lights, despite being magical, seemed to buzz like the fluorescent lights that filled Muggle office buildings.

When she reached the main office, the door opened as she knocked, not because someone had let her in, but because the latch wasn't quite working.

A kind old woman greeted her with a nearly toothless grin. "Hello, dearie. You must be Miss Granger. I'm Gertrude. We don't get a lot of traffic down here. Have a seat." The woman shuffled some papers on her mostly empty desk, then folded her hands on top of the small stack. "The door's cursed. We faithfully put in a new request every week with Maintenance, but they never seem to be able to find it when we ask."

Hermione's heart instantly went out to the woman and the department. She knew what it was like to be low on the Ministry's priority list. "I'd be happy to take a look at it. I'm no cursebreaker, of course."

"That would be lovely, dear. I'll let Mr. Perkins know you're here."

Hermione returned to the office door while Gertrude ambled down the hall to the only visible door. The latch proved rather simple to remedy, and she was angry that nobody had ever bothered to even try to fix it.

"He's ready now. Straight down the hall, you can't miss the office." Gertrude sat down slowly, as though the weight of her old bones was too much.

"Thank you." Hermione put her hand on Gertrude's shoulder as she passed.

The office door was plain and brown with an old, chipped plaque on it. Hermione knocked.

"Come in." Mr. Perkins sounded tired and it was barely nine in the morning.

"Hello, Mr. Perkins." Hermione smiled warmly and extended her hand.

Perkins shook and motioned for her to sit. "Miss Granger. I must admit, it's something of an honor to meet you. You're rather well-known, as you must surely be aware. I've always admired your work ethic and your determination to do what's right. No matter what."

"Thank you very much, Sir. That… means a lot." And she meant every word. It was rare to find someone who appreciated her for who she was, for her stellar record and commitment to integrity. In the case of Perkins, here, whom she'd never met before, at least he claimed to appreciate her, which was a lot more than she got from most people. "I don't suppose you know why I'm here."

Perkins sighed dramatically. "I've been 'warned' that you might be coming to see me."

"I see." Hermione braced herself for the quick rejection she had expected.

"Now, Miss Granger, I don't enjoy being at the bottom of the pile, as I'm sure you're familiar with. I've been here almost fifty years, and Magical Creatures is treated only slightly better than us. Nobody wants you to win this more than I do."

"But…"

He spread his hands wide. "There's nothing I can do. I have virtually no power. However, I would truly love to hear your presentation. If you want to give it, that is."

Hermione felt deflated. "Just like that? There's… nothing you can do?"

"The treaty between the Ministry and the pixies is binding, but this department has no recourse for enforcement. We cannot require the Ministry to maintain possession of the forest for the pixies. All we can do is say that, yes, the treaty exists. The Ministry retained some small degree of ownership; should the pixies ever vacate on their own, the forest would revert to being fully possessed by the Ministry."

"You've no power to prevent the Ministry from breaking the contract, then?" Hermione clenched her jaw. Why was the Ministry such an exemplar for inefficiency and wastefulness?

"I'm afraid not. I am sorry. I hate to give such unpleasant news to someone I admire."

"I appreciate your time, Mr. Perkins." She forced herself to smile. "I won't take up any more of it."

"Come back and see us anytime!" he called after her as she hurried down the hall.

She needed to get out before she screamed. A quick wave to Gertrude and she burst through the door into the hallway, her heart racing and her lungs feeling like they were being squeezed in a vice. Hermione blinked away tears and ran through the halls, wrenched open the stairwell and climbed four floors to the atrium. Once there, she Apparated to her favorite park where she began taking in great gulps of air. After a few minutes, she sat on a bench, her hands shaking.

There was very little left for her to do, nowhere for her to turn next. This had been her last hope, albeit a slight one, some way to snag the sale on a technicality.

Her mind flailed aimlessly as she watched people in the park walking dogs, running, and riding bikes. She wanted her life to be simple yet meaningful. She wanted to give back to the world that had given her so much, the world that had shown her what she was and had given her the space to discover _who_ she was. Magical creatures had always been maligned and treated as inferior, and she'd detested the reality ever since she first learned of it. Fighting for the rights of those considered "less than" or "other" had been her passion for as long as she could remember, but she was beginning to understand that the Ministry of Magic might not be the best place for her to live this passion.

Unfortunately, she had no idea where that best place might be.

For the briefest of moments, she thought about Draco's multiple offers of help, but she quickly pushed them away. It wasn't time for that yet; she had to believe in the laws that had been written and the system that was designed to uphold them. Taking the pixie's forest was so clearly wrong that it was only a matter of time before the right person heard her arguments.

* * *

**Saturday, AUGUST 12**

"What do you think?" Pansy spun slowly, allowing Hermione time to see the whole dress.

If it had been the first—or even the tenth—Hermione would have been enthusiastic. Instead, she had lost count of how many dresses Pansy had tried on. They'd all begun to look basically the same: long, white, expensive gowns. Some had sleeves, some didn't. Some had long trains, some were short. Hermione wasn't sure she could conjure even the barest amount of enthusiasm at this point.

"Pansy, it's lovely. Truly. They've all had something to recommend them. But I think I could use a break. We've been here…" She checked the clock on the wall and had to suppress a groan. "Two and a half hours. If I don't get something to eat, I'm going to set this place on fire."

Everyone in the room froze, hesitant and almost worried expressions on the faces of the employees.

Hermione forced a smile. "I'm joking. It's a Muggle expression."

That did the trick, and everyone resumed their bustling about.

Pansy had the grace to look sheepish. "I suppose you're right. I could do with a bite myself. Just let me get this one off, yeah?"

Hermione sighed while Pansy disappeared into the dressing room. She'd thought her friend had made a decision already. The fifth dress had brought everyone in the boutique to an awed hush. Pansy had been glowing as she regarded herself in the mirror. But then she'd reappeared from the dressing room in a new gown, and they'd been at it ever since.

It was only nine in the morning, but she'd had a light breakfast considering she'd had to wake up before six-thirty on a Saturday. The boutique was only open by appointment, and with such short notice, they'd only been able to secure a very early one. Hermione knew she'd be a better friend and assistant with a substantial meal in her, and she was already planning what to order from The Three Broomsticks when Pansy emerged, looking fresh as if she'd just woken.

"All right, Hermione. Let's get something to eat and then I want to visit a few other shops."

When they exited the bridal shop, Hermione turned left but Pansy went right. "Hey! Broomsticks is this way!" Hermione called.

"I know, but there's something I need to do this way first. It will be very quick, I promise!" Pansy didn't wait for a response and continued down the street, away from the shops and restaurants.

Hermione sighed and hurried to catch up. After a moment, she started to wonder what they were doing. "Pansy, this is the residential part of Hogsmeade. What are we doing?"

Pansy gave her a slight smirk. "You'll see."

It was then that Hermione remembered that Draco was currently residing in Hogsmeade, and considering the very recent conversation with Pansy, she had a sneaking suspicion that her friend was up to something. She rushed to grab Pansy's arm, halting their progress. "Tell me what we're doing."

With an exaggerated sigh, Pansy rifled through her purse, procuring a slip of parchment on which Hermione could see an address written. "I thought, since we're here, we might stop in and say hello to Draco. He's our mutual friend, after all." Leaving the paper with Hermione, Pansy resumed her march.

Hermione wasn't sure how to feel, but she couldn't deny she'd been immensely curious as to what Draco did with his time. And, with Pansy at the lead, it seemed quite natural to her that they should stop in, since they were already in town. Consequently, she said nothing to discourage Pansy, falling into step beside her.

The walk was short, and they spent it with Pansy talking about dresses, much to Hermione's displeasure.

Finally, they reached the street written on the parchment and turned down it. As they did, they saw something that made them both stop in their tracks.

Draco's house was the second on the left, and he was standing just outside the front door in a dressing gown, a large mug of something in one hand. That wasn't alarming, but they saw a woman with dark black hair, also wearing a lounge robe, descending the few steps that led from his door to the sidewalk. She stopped at the edge of his front garden, looked back at him, and waved. She then proceeded to walk down the street to the house next door to Draco's. He watched her go the whole way, taking a sip from his mug. When the woman reached her door, she waved to him again before entering her house.

He continued to stare in her direction for a long minute after.

One moment Pansy was gaping at him, the next she was storming up the street, her heels clacking the pavement. Hermione, who couldn't quite breathe properly, struggled to keep up, but Pansy reached the gate first.

Draco's face was full of surprise when he saw Pansy barreling up his walk. Then he looked even more stunned when Hermione came trailing behind her.

"Pansy?" He straightened up from where he'd been leaning on his door frame. "What are you doing here?"

"Me?" she screeched. "What about you?"

Hermione thought the excessive anger was uncalled for. What Draco did and with whom was none of their concern. If Pansy was angry on her behalf, she needn't be, even though Hermione felt a little bit like throwing up in the bushes.

He arched an eyebrow and casually sipped from his mug. "I… live here? Which I'm assuming you know, since you're here. I doubt it's pure coincidence that you've found yourself at my front door."

Pansy huffed and crossed her arms. "Who was that?"

"Who was whom?"

"That… that woman who just left your house? In a bathrobe, no less! Simpering over her shoulder, blushing as she went, waving coquettishly. What is going on?"

Hermione instantly knew that Pansy had said all the wrong things. Draco's jaw tensed, his eyes narrowed, and his posture stiffened. "None of that is any of your concern, I assure you. Was there something you needed? Some reason you stopped by, Pansy? Or are you just here to shout at me on my doorstep?"

Pansy stood silently for a long moment. "Can we talk? Inside?"

Draco glanced to Hermione, who had remained just inside the garden gate. She gave him a weak smile and tried to be very interested in the flowers and plants growing along the edge of the fence.

"If we must," he said, his own displeasure evident.

Hermione watched as they disappeared into the house. She could hear angry voices—mostly Pansy's—but couldn't make out any of the words. Eventually, the volume decreased, but Pansy and Draco remained inside the house.

The woman who'd left Draco's door had to be the neighbor Narcissa had mentioned in passing the last time they were together. Hermione only knew that her name was Suzanne and that he'd become friendly with her since temporarily moving into the house. She hadn't thought too much of it, and she didn't really want to think about it now. Before, she could imagine that Suzanne was an elderly witch who enjoyed having a strong, young man next door, someone she could discuss herbs and magical plants with over the fence. It had never crossed her mind that Suzanne would be someone young, pretty, and single. And by her actions, it would appear that Suzanne had a little fancy for Draco, if her lash-fluttering and blushing were any indication.

Pansy had been so sure that Draco liked _her_ , and she'd even started to let her own mind wander down the various 'what if' lanes. But now, she had to consider that, in fact, his attentions toward her always had and always would be of the friendship sort. Her doubts began to assail her once more, the reminder that she'd felt he was pulling away over the last few months. He hadn't done as much with the Foundation, and had been so busy traveling that he hadn't spent as much time with them on outings as he used to.

If Pansy had been right, and he'd had feelings for her earlier in the year, there was no guarantee that they remained. If they hadn't been strong enough for him to ask her out or in any way tell her how he was feeling, then it would stand to reason that they could easily disappear, most likely by putting space between them and allowing himself the room and freedom to explore something else.

"Hello!"

Hermione jumped, startled. She'd been lost in thought, internally cataloguing the flowers growing by the fence on the side shared by Suzanne. When Suzanne called her name, she'd been standing only a few feet from her, her hand trailing lightly over a patch of tall, purple Echinacea blooms.

"Um, hello." Hermione did her best to smile awkwardly.

"I'm Suzanne. I haven't seen you around here before." She glanced at a window in Draco's house. "Are you a friend of his?"

Hermione straightened and looked Suzanne square in the eye. "Yes, we've been friends for some time. Another mutual friend is speaking with him just now. I'm waiting." She'd started off feeling confident, but that fizzled quickly.

Suzanne nodded. "Is that his girlfriend?"

Hermione snorted. "No. As I said, she's a friend of his."

The woman nodded thoughtfully. "Good." Then she blushed. "I mean… I only… oh, bother, I'm making a mess of things. I only wondered if he was seeing anyone."

"Not to my knowledge." Hermione's heart pounded at the deduction that Suzanne wasn't seeing him, either. So what had she been doing leaving his house at just after nine in the morning?

Suzanne leaned on the fencepost and sighed. "He's a wonderful neighbor. Very thoughtful and considerate. It was my birthday last week, and he insisted on taking me to dinner, since I've only lived here for a few months and don't know anybody. I'm originally from Ireland but transferred to England in May to work for the Ministry."

Hermione's responding smile was tight. "I also work for the Ministry. Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

"You never told me your name."

"Oh, I apologize. Hermione Granger." She held out her hand and Suzanne, eyes wide with awe, hesitantly shook it.

"Not… _the_ Hermione Granger?" Suzanne was still shaking her hand.

Hermione finally pulled hers away when it became clear that Suzanne was a bit too starstruck to do so. "The same, I'm afraid."

"I had no idea Draco had such a famous friend! You're quite popular in Ireland, you know. At least, you're somewhat of a hero for witches there." Suzanne brushed some stray hair out of her face.

Hermione noted for the first time that Suzanne had changed out of her robe. A quick glance at the other woman's front garden showed one that was full of life, just like Draco's. "Did you plant everything?" she asked, sweeping her hand around the area.

"Oh, no, most of it was done by Bertilda, the woman who owns the cottage Draco is letting. She was friends with the previous occupants, who let her plant as she saw fit in their garden as well as her own. It's lovely, isn't it? There are so many useful magical plants here, as well as some that are purely ornamental." Suzanne pointed to a bush in the corner. "That one there is almost constantly visited by butterflies in the summer. There haven't been too many lately; I suppose the weather is changing just enough to make them look for something more suited for them."

The door to Draco's cottage swung open, drawing Suzanne's gaze. Hermione turned around and saw Pansy descending the steps. She saw Hermione immediately and motioned her over, then saw that Hermione was in conversation with Draco's neighbor. Pansy glanced down at her shoes—three-inch heels that probably cost more than Hermione's entire wardrobe—then the grass, then huffed and removed them. Pansy walked through the grass with bare feet to join Hermione at the fence.

Since Hermione was the only one who knew both women, the introduction fell to her, though she did so reluctantly, wishing they could leave. "Pansy. This is Suzanne, Draco's neighbor. Suzanne, this is Pansy Parkinson."

The women shook hands, Pansy barely touching Suzanne's. "Charmed, I'm sure. Hermione, Draco's joining us for breakfast. Although, it's really more like brunch at this point, don't you think?"

"All right." Hermione wasn't quite sure what to think at this new development, and she kept her reaction in check. It still didn't mean he hadn't just gotten through shagging this woman that morning or the night before. Then she remembered that Suzanne had asked if Draco was seeing someone, so at least they weren't dating. But stranger things had happened than two single, attractive people shacking up now and then.

"Oh, that sounds lovely!" Suzanne exclaimed. "I've not yet had my breakfast. I had just gone to borrow a cup of sugar from Draco before you arrived. I must have just missed you."

Pansy gave her a bored look. "Shame. Well, we won't keep you then." She hooked her arm through Hermione's and led her away from the fence. She slid her shoes back on, stood up tall and smiled. "He's not sleeping with her."

Hermione closed her eyes. "Pansy."

"Did you expect me not to ask? A strange woman I've never seen before is leaving his house, in a bathrobe no less, at such an hour of the morning?" She tutted. "It's only natural."

Draco's door opened once more and he emerged, having changed into denims and a long-sleeve, dark gray t-shirt. When he saw them, he took a breath and joined them on the walk leading to the street. He glared at Pansy, then gave Hermione a tired smile. "Hello, Hermione. It's good to see you this morning. I had no idea you'd be stopping by."

"I didn't either. We were at an appointment with a dress shop."

"Pansy told me."

"Well, now. Shall we?" Pansy was instantly perky, and Hermione felt a well of dread settle in her gut.

Just because they had talked about the possibility of Draco having feelings for her didn't mean that Hermione wanted Pansy interfering or trying to get them together. That was the last thing she was interested in, despite the fact that she liked Draco very much. If they were going to happen, she wanted it to be natural, as everything about their friendship had always been.

Draco motioned for Hermione to follow Pansy, who insisted on walking fast to stay ahead of them. Hermione pursed her lips and crossed her arms. Draco shoved his hands into his pockets, his focus on the ground before them.

"I think the Broomsticks isn't quite what I'm in the mood for," said Pansy silkily. "I think I'd like to try the new French bistro. What do you say?"

"That's fine, Pansy," Hermione said, glancing at Draco.

He shrugged. "Whatever you say."

They walked a few minutes in silence, then Hermione rolled her eyes at herself. The entire thing felt ridiculous. What, were they teenagers again? Draco clearly wasn't thrilled about being out with them, and she wondered why he'd agreed to it. This made her wonder exactly what Pansy had said to get him to agree, which made her stomach swoop uncomfortably. She glanced ahead at her friend, the one she hadn't trusted enough to tell the truth about her feelings. Surely Pansy had drawn conclusions, made inferences, connected the dots to know that, at the very least, Hermione wasn't _dis_ -interested. Had Pansy said as much to Draco?

Hermione refused to give Pansy the power to throw a wrinkle into her relationship with Draco or to let the fear of such a thing affect her. She smiled, then turned to Draco. "Have you made use of any of the plants growing in your garden? I saw some lovely moonflowers, though no Burnt-tip Orchids."

He seemed to relax a bit. "The woman I'm renting from has given me permission to use whatever I might need, but I've honestly not had a lot of time for it. Between the renovation at Hogwarts, continuing to work for mother's causes, and keeping abreast of what Potter's doing, I haven't had time for casual potion brewing."

Not to mention taking his neighbor to dinner for her birthday, Hermione thought. How many gatherings with his friends had he missed while in Hogsmeade, yet he could make time for that? No, she wouldn't let herself think like that. There was no cause, no point in being jealous.

"That's too bad. It's a magnificent collection."

"I agree with you there. On the day she handed me the key to the wards, she gave me a tour of her yard and Suzanne's yard, since she's done the work in both of them." He paused and swallowed. "That's when I met Suzanne; she saw us outside her house and introduced herself."

"Ah." Hermione tried not to sound too interested.

"Here we are." Pansy stopped in front of a quaint café called Cafe Lyon. "I've heard really good things about this place! I can't wait to try their Chouquette." She opened the door and the three of them went inside.

Hermione had to admit the café was delightful. It had a French air to it, though she couldn't quite put her finger on why. To her delight, she saw on display an assortment of macarons, and she pointed them out to Draco. "Look! Oh, I fell in love with those treats in Paris. I can't wait to see what flavors they have!"

His answering smile was warm, if a bit tired. "Let me know. I'll get a few myself. Though I'm not sure anything could beat that Mint Julep one you sent me for my birthday."

"Come, you two. Let's get to our table." Pansy ushered them to a spot near the front. It was a metal table for four, and to Hermione's surprise, she insisted on sitting between them.

Hermione took it as a sign that Pansy wasn't massively conspiring to force them together, as she remembered so many girls in school doing whenever a friend admitted to fancying someone.

Once they'd perused the menu and ordered, Hermione asked Draco how things were going at Hogwarts.

His eyes immediately lit up. "Excellently. We're a tad ahead of schedule, though I expect that will slow down a bit when the staff return full time. They're due the Monday after next, so my hope is that we can continue to be slightly ahead of the curve so that, with the additional people around the castle, we'll remain on target for the job being completed."

"It was so interesting hearing about all the changes that will be made," said Pansy. "Do you think they'll have any sort of negative impact on the atmosphere at Hogwarts? Part of its charm were the trick stairs, the moving staircase."

Draco shook his head. "No. Everything so far has been seamless, as though the castle itself were thrilled at the changes. If, by chance, we do finish ahead of schedule, there's a small project I'd like to try and fit in. But if that doesn't happen, hopefully I can make it happen before much more time passes."

"What is it?" Hermione asked, leaning forward.

He paused, as though considering whether to respond or not. "The focus has been on the castle itself and the Quidditch Pitch." He grinned. "You know I had to make sure Tabitha could join her friends for every match."

"Of course," said Pansy with an exaggerated eye roll.

"So there's a special path being constructed from the castle to the Pitch, just like there are paths to the various outdoor classrooms, but I'd like to see some of that path extended further onto the grounds. To the lake, for example, even to Hogsmeade. I've been hoping to have time to work on that."

"That's lovely." Hermione felt that her heart might burst. He really was simply wonderful.

"How's your work going, Hermione?" Draco asked as he took a bite of sausage.

"What's this?" Pansy asked before she could respond.

Hermione quickly swallowed. "You know. The pixies and the Quidditch stadium."

"Oh, right." Pansy nodded. "You had something this week for it, didn't you?"

Hermione felt pleased that Pansy had remembered, then ashamed for thinking that Pansy wasn't behaving like anything but a good friend. She would wait for some kind of evidence before suspecting her friend of betraying her trust—even though it was only of a sensitive conversation, not a confession.

"Yes. I met with the Department of Magical Lands and Sanctuaries in an effort to learn about who truly owns the forest, who stands to gain from the sale."

"What did you find out?" Draco asked.

Hermione sighed. "Nothing useful. The land is owned by a trust established between our Ministry and the Muggle one as part of the implementation of the Statute of Secrecy. It was designated as belonging to the magical population of Britain. Nobody had shown any interest in it, so when the pixies needed a new home around the turn of the last century, the Ministry had no problem signing the agreement with the pixies to let them use it."

"And now?" asked Pansy.

"Now? The Ministry seems all too happy to sell it. They've been promised a hefty sum, plus some royalties and any resources found when the forest is converted for the stadium."

"'Converted.' That's a funny way of saying they're going to tear down most of the trees." Draco scowled.

Hermione was surprised at the emotion in his voice. She hadn't known he cared that much about the forest. He had always shown great interest in what she was doing, but it had seemed more academic and, if she were honest, only because they were friends.

Pansy started to say something, but Draco interrupted her. "Hermione, why do you keep doing this to yourself?"

Again, the intensity of his tone gave her pause. "Keep doing what?"

"Trying to get what you want by going through the Ministry?" He smacked the table for emphasis, startling her, sat back in his seat, rocked forward, then sat back again and crossed his arms. "My mother has offered her assistance. I've offered mine. You know what you're up against, yet you still insist on going through the proper channels, as though that's going to do any bloody good."

Hermione could only stare at him in stunned silence. Never had he even hinted that he was frustrated with her, with what she was doing, yet here he was, sniping at her. She cleared her throat. "Draco. I appreciate your concern, but I'm handling this my way."

He rolled his eyes. "Your way isn't going to get you what you want, and you know it."

She jutted her chin out defiantly. "I do not know that. You know what I'm doing and why, Draco. We've had this conversation already. I—"

"Yes, we have, and you bloody refuse to listen to me! You've had how many meetings?" He propped a clenched fist on the table. "Your boss." He held up one finger. "The Department Head of Magical Creatures." Two fingers. "Games and Sports, which was a bloody waste of time." Three fingers. "You actually met with the Quidditch League, which is bleeding adorable. Bet they all got a good laugh." Four.

Hermione felt her cheeks burning with humiliation and hurt over his words. But he wasn't finished.

"Now you've gone and met with Lands and Sanctuaries." Five fingers. He wiggled them at her with a deep scowl. "What do you have to show for it?"

"I—"

"Nothing! You've spent hours researching, hours reading, hours upon hours preparing for these meetings that the other parties allow just to keep you somewhat pacified. I guarantee you they're all laughing behind your back."

Tears stung her eyes. She'd always thought that he understood her reasons for why she wanted to follow the path she was walking. He'd always been so supportive, despite offering to use his contacts, his prestige, to see around some doors that had remained closed to her.

What was more, she knew that he was right. She'd known it with every single meeting, every single person she'd spoken with. Nobody was taking her seriously, and nobody was interested in truly hearing her. It was endlessly frustrating, but she knew that she was doing the right thing, so she'd refused to truly let it wear down her confidence. To have Draco now throw it all in her face was not only shocking, it was hurtful.

"All because you refuse to listen to me and accept my help." He punctuated his final word with a moderate bang on the table.

She narrowed her teary eyes at him. "Maybe I don't want your kind of help, Draco."

In an instant, all the ire drained from his face and he recoiled as though struck, a look of betrayal in his eyes before he shut down.

In the worst moment possible, their food arrived. Draco was staring at the table, Hermione was torn between crying and yelling at him, and Pansy seemed frozen.

"Need anything?" the server asked, smiling at each of them in turn. When she received nothing but icy silence, she arched an eyebrow. "All right, then. If you change your mind, let me know."

As soon as she was out of earshot, Draco leaned forward, rubbing his forehead as though he were fighting a headache. "Hermione, listen. I—"

"Save it." She pushed her plate away and stood, rummaging in her bag for a few coins. "Pansy, I'm so sorry. I'm happy to accompany you some other day." Then she rushed from the café as quickly as possible. She thought she might have heard him call her name, but it was hard to hear over the pounding of her heart and the rushing of blood in her ears. Tears started streaming down her cheeks as she hurried out of sight of the café. When she felt she'd put enough distance between herself and him, she stopped, taking a few moments to catch her breath.

She and Draco had been through their share of disagreements over the course of their friendship, but never had he spoken to her with such vehemence, such venom, as though he truly thought she was stupid for what she was doing. She had no idea he was capable of such cruelty still, but perhaps there are some traits that refuse to die, no matter how much we wish it otherwise. His words, designed to hurt, had done so, much more than she'd thought possible.

It made sense, of course. She'd had feelings for him for months and had only very recently begun to entertain the idea of him returning those feelings.

Well.

So much for that idea.

* * *

**Sunday, August 13**

_Hermione,_

_Are you okay? Do you need anything? I can bring ice cream._

_Pansy_

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Pansy,_

_I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be fine? No need for bringing excessive calories into the situation._

_Hermione_

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Hermione,_

_Why wouldn't you be fine? Are you daft? Let me think. You had a huge row with Draco, who, ignoring everything else, is one of your best friends. You shouldn't be okay right now._

_What time should I come?_

_Pansy_

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Pansy,_

_If by 'row' you mean he insulted me beyond all reason or merit, then sure. That's what happened. How can I consider him a friend if that's what he truly thinks of me?_

_There is no need to come over. I am fine._

_Hermione_

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Hermione,_

_He was in a pissy mood, I'll grant you that, but it's probably because I… well, I gave him quite an earful when we spoke in his house. It had nothing to do with you. I'm sorry he took it out on you, but I'm almost certain he regrets every word he said._

_What's your favorite flavor?_

_Pansy_

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Pansy,_

_Be that as it may, he had no right to speak to me that way. You do realize he essentially mocked what I'm doing, don't you? He_ hurt _me. He dredged up my deepest fears and insecurities—not just about the pixies but about everything in the entire wizarding world—and he_ knew _it—and then threw them in my face with contempt. A friend wouldn't do that. And he… I thought he_ was _my friend. But now I'm not so sure._

_It's butter pecan, but I don't want any._

_Hermione_

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Hermione,_

_Your resolve is weakening, I can tell. Yes, Draco was an arse. And, as much as I hate to defend him, just because he hurt you doesn't mean he's not your friend. It means he did an appalling thing, but I can guarantee that he regretted it as soon as the words were past his lips. I'd hazard a guess that he's drowning himself in Firewhiskey right now because he_ knows _what he did and he hates himself a little bit for it._

_Before or after dinner? How serious is this? One carton or two?_

_Pansy_

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Pansy,_

_Then if he feels so bad, I have no doubt he'll be knocking on my door any moment to apologize._

_Oh, how odd, complete silence._

_I'm not eating ice cream before dinner. There's no need to come over, Pansy._

_I am fine._

_Hermione_

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Hermione,_

_You're obviously not fine. Why don't you write to him and tell him how you feel? That way you can get all your feelings out without having to actually look at him._

_It's after lunch, and this ice cream I've already purchased isn't going to eat itself._

_Pansy_

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Pansy,_

_There is no possible way I can send him a letter telling him how I feel. I… I can't. It's hard enough feeling this hurt. What good would it do to tell him? He knew exactly what he was doing, and pissy mood or not, he chose to say what he said. No. I did nothing wrong—_

_Well, there was that comment referencing one of his greatest insecurities, which is that no one will take him seriously because they'll assume the worst about his motives._

_But I won't apologize until he does. He was wrong first; I merely lashed out in an effort to protect myself._

_I'm sorry you wasted your money on ice cream._

_Hermione_

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Hermione,_

_You two are both so incredibly stubborn. And you're right, that is one of his greatest weaknesses, and you hit him there because he'd hurt you so badly. You two are_ close _and I can't believe either of you would let one little argument get in the way of your friendship! Just write to him. You don't have to actually send it, you know. But it can help you work through your anger and hurt. I've done it a time or two._

_I know where you live, you know._

_Pansy_

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Pansy,_

_There are some things that are too far. He knew right where to hurt me and he didn't just stab me, he twisted the knife. This may be a bridge irrevocably burned._

_I'll be changing my wards as soon as I finish this letter._

_Hermione_

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Draco,_

_How dare you!? You are an egotistical, narcissistic arsehole! What gives you the right to speak to me like that? It took every ounce of strength to control the urge to hex you so hard your children's children would feel it! You're a terrible, good for nothing—_

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Draco,_

_How dare you, you egotistical, narcissistic prat! How dare you presume that you know better than me about what I should be doing and how I should be doing it? I'll have you know that I have every intention of utilizing every avenue open to me, but as I've told you on more than one occasion, I will see this through first. No, I haven't told you every little detail about my plans, but do I need to remind you of the lengths I have gone to in the past? Namely, Marietta Edgecombe? Sending Umbridge to the Centaurs? Using Polyjuice to impersonate someone in order to steal from her vault? While Imperiusing someone along the way? How dare you suggest that I'm not doing everything I possibly can to win this?_

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Draco,_

_I thought we were friends. I thought I meant something to you. Not the most important person in your world, but I thought you cared for me, respected me. How could you use my deepest insecurities against me? How could you pinpoint the area where I'm most vulnerable, then attack with impunity? Driving your words into my heart like a knife. The worst part is, I let myself feel things for you. I opened myself up to you in ways I've never done with another soul, and you threw it in my face without a second thought. I_

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Draco,_

_You want to know the truth? The whole, sad, simple truth? I know you'll never read this, and as I sit here, fighting tears, I've realized that everything I'm feeling boils down to this:_

_I'm in love with you._

_Desperately so. But your words yesterday cut me deeper than I'd imagined possible, and I believe the reason is because of how I feel. I've given you the sharpest weapon on earth—power over my heart—and presented it to you, unguarded, unprotected, vulnerable. And even though you don't know that you possess it, your attack laid it to waste._

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Pansy,_

_How soon can you come?_

_Bring both cartons._

_Hermione_

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Draco,_

_I've already started and burned half a dozen letters or more. You'll never see this one, either. I think I could forgive you. Of course I could. But not until you come to me. Apologize to me. I can't tell you how deeply it cut, how many tears I've cried, how your words were perfectly placed to shred my heart._

_I'm not sure why I'm still writing this. Except that, over the course of these letters, I have released some of my anger, some of my frustration, shame, and pain, and that is a good thing. When I see you, I will be able to look at you without tears of hot anger burning my eyes, without my fists clenching in an attempt to keep from slapping you—again. Do you remember third year? I should have known then the power you could wield over me if I let you._

_I cannot let you have that. I must resist the pull of my heart._

_Our friendship will recover, or it won't. That is up to you now._

_Hermione_

* * *

**Tuesday, August 15**

Hermione arrived at the conference room a full hour before the meeting was scheduled to begin. She had no intention of walking into a room full of people who were set against her. Let them come and find her already there, her notes spread on the table at the front of the room while they found seats facing her. The room was set up like a classroom with a few rows of chairs facing the front of the room, which held a table and a chair.

She, of course, was the teacher.

Hermione had no misconceptions about what was before her. She knew that inviting representatives from both Magical Creatures and Games and Sports would not end well for her. She knew they'd been discussing her efforts—and likely herself—amongst themselves, and she assumed none of it was flattering. She knew she'd be outnumbered, but she had a plan for saying her piece and keeping the meeting short.

While she waited, she went over her notes once more, then spent the remaining time reading a book.

She was still reading when Gerald Crowe, the head of her department, came in. She gave him a friendly smile and inclined her head toward him before returning to her book. She felt a strange sensation of power as he glanced around the room, then awkwardly took a seat in the second row of chairs.

Hermione continued reading.

At five minutes after the meeting was due to begin, the Head of Games and Sports sauntered in, but he, unlike Hermione's superior, brought the entire board with him. She'd been expecting this, however, and merely continued reading. The group greeted Crowe and they continued the conversation they'd been having before entering. Thankfully, Hermione's boss didn't engage the group beyond their initial greeting. After a few minutes, everyone from Games and Sports quieted and turned to her.

With an air of command, Hermione shut her book and stood, smiling. "Thank you so much for coming." She passed out a single sheet of parchment to each person present, then returned to the front of the room. "I know you all know why you're here. I've spoken at length with each of you about the matter at hand, but just so that we're all freshly familiar, here's a brief summary. The Quidditch League wants to build a new stadium, and they've identified a particular forest, distant from Muggle communities, where they wish to build. Unfortunately, there's an entire settlement of pixies that inhabit a large portion of said forest. The Ministry signed a treaty with the pixies over a hundred years ago, giving them the forest. This was done to help mitigate the pixie presence throughout the United Kingdom, as their group had no permanent home before the treaty. A centralized location for pixies to live and flourish made life easier for the Ministry, who were no longer called to all corners of the Kingdom to deal with them."

She paused. Everyone was either looking at the parchment, the floor, or the wall. That was fine. "This should be a simple matter where we tell the Quidditch League that they need to find a different home for their new stadium. But for some reason, this isn't the response I've heard from… well, anybody involved in this matter. I thought it might be profitable to bring the concerned parties together so that we can work through this amicably. Like the grown adults we are."

Garrison Johnson, Head of Games and Sports, folded the parchment into a paper airplane and, with his wand, sent it flying around the room to finally land on the table beside Hermione. He gave her a smug look. "This… _treaty_ … is outdated. It's over a century old, and at the very least should be revisited. But honestly, this whole thing is a waste of our time. The pixies can easily find another forest in which to live; there aren't many places big enough to both house and hide a Quidditch stadium."

She nodded throughout his little rant then turned to her boss. He was squirming, and rightly so. As the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, it was primarily his department's job to fight for the pixies, and she shouldn't have had to do any more than bring the matter to his attention. He knew his responsibility, but he was caving to pressure from Games and Sports, the Quidditch League, and likely the Minister of Magic himself.

Let him squirm.

"You all understand the facts of the matter. If the treaty needs to be revisited, then that should be allowed to happen and the pixies brought into the conversation. And I'm going to go out on a limb and say that you've never been to the pixie home in the pixie's forest, have you, Mr. Johnson?" She didn't wait for his response. "It's no simple matter to move them. That's like asking everyone in London to please budge off and find another place to live because we want to build the world's largest football stadium. The pixie settlement might not be as large as London, but it is just as intricate, just as thriving, and the Ministry doesn't have the right to trample on their lives simply because they're in the way and considered less worthy."

Against her predetermined plan, she was getting a bit worked up, so Hermione paused, took a sip from her tea cup, and inhaled deeply a few times before continuing. The blokes from Games and Sports had started murmuring amongst themselves, and Crowe was wiping sweat from his brow.

Good.

"I haven't called you here to argue." As she spoke, she began gathering her things. "You know all of this, you've heard me say it, and I know you've discussed it with each other and who knows what other departments in the Ministry. I'm here in an attempt to implore you to do the right thing." Hermione finished off her tea, dried her cup and shoved it into her beaded bag. With her arms full, she gave the silent men a condescending smile. "Before it's too late."

Then she walked out.

Hermione knew her display probably hadn't made any difference, but at least she felt like she'd done everything within her power, and the bounds of the Ministry, to bring this injustice to light.

* * *

**Friday, AUGUST 18**

A knock on Hermione's office door made her jump, and she laughed anxiously at herself. "Oh, Harry! You startled me."

He grinned and entered the room. "You said you wanted to talk to me before our weekly lunch?"

"Yes." Hermione capped her ink bottle and placed her quill in its box in her desk drawer. "I'd like to go out for lunch today, if that's alright with you. I've been unsettled all week and a change of scenery would do me some good."

Harry cocked his head slightly, fixing her with a scrutinizing look.

"What?" She couldn't hold his gaze and gathered her bag and a light jumper—in case they went somewhere that was chilly inside. He was Draco's partner, after all; might he have said something to Harry?

"Oh, nothing. Sure, we can go out. There's this sandwich shop Draco's told me about that I've been wanting to try. It's Muggle, but he told me the best way to get there undetected."

Hermione nodded. "Lead the way." Going into Muggle London for lunch was always a hassle. They weren't the only people on their lunch breaks; no, the offices in Muggle London emptied for lunch just like the magical ones. But if Draco knew of an expedient route, then she'd just have to trust Harry.

"How's your week?" he asked as they made their way to the lift.

"Fine. I had a joint meeting with the heads of the Departments of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and Games and Sports earlier this week." She let out a long sigh. "My hope was to mediate some sort of agreement that will allow the pixies to remain where they are, but it became quickly apparent that wasn't going to happen. I said my piece and left."

Harry nodded, weaving through the mass of people in the entrance, the only place within the Ministry from which they could Disapparate. He held out his arm, and Hermione took it, somewhat surprised they'd be Apparating. No sooner had she thought it than the familiar tug began to pull, and in an instant, they landed.

But they weren't in Muggle London. Hermione gasped as she took in her surroundings. They were in a little copse of trees, and in the near distance, she could just make out a village. "Where are we?"

"Wiltshire proper." He grinned. "Come on." They started walking. "Were you disappointed that getting them in the same room had no better outcome than meeting them one on one?"

Hermione sighed. "Honestly? I'm not sure that's the right word. I wasn't really surprised, and so I couldn't really be disappointed about that. If there's any disappointment, it's more in the system behind it all. Even still, I'm not sorry for the route I've taken. As I've said from the beginning—even if some people refuse to actually hear me—I need to go this route, by the book, from the start. Once I've exhausted all my options this way, I'll of course seek alternatives. But I can't have anyone at the Ministry or the Quidditch League say that I didn't try my hardest with them. Nothing will lose me credit faster than that."

"I suppose you're not wrong." After a few moments walking in silence, Harry spoke again. "Any idea when Draco's coming back?"

"To work, you mean?" When Harry nodded, she shook her head. "It's not like he corresponds with me, you know. Not in any sort of regular or meaningful way."

Harry winced. "Something happened, then?"

Hermione groaned. She told Harry about their conversation Saturday, leaving out the bits about seeing his neighbor leaving his house, Pansy having a shouting match with him inside, and any of her feelings for him. She wasn't ready to paint the whole picture to Draco's partner, even though he was one of her closest friends. Harry listened patiently and waited for her to finish.

"And so then I just left because he was being such a complete and total arse."

Harry frowned. "I'm… honestly surprised at him. I wonder what made him snap like that? He isn't usually so rash. Or outspoken. Or—"

"Such a jerk?" Hermione supplied.

"Well, yeah." He looked at her skeptically. "He really told you everyone is laughing at you?"

Hermione forced a wry smile, tears threatening as though she were reliving his cruel words. "He did. I threw a nasty barb at him as well, and he seemed stunned." She let her shoulders droop. "I shouldn't have done that, I know, but the truth is, Harry, that he said exactly what I've been afraid of. My deepest fears about this whole process he just threw in my face with a sneer. I'm surprised he didn't laugh at me himself."

They'd reached the village, and there were enough people in the streets that they didn't speak until they were securely at their table. The Malfoys lived in Wiltshire, and despite the separation of Muggles and wizards, they were still well-known. Hermione knew that Narcissa occasionally had to interact with the Muggles, as the owner of one of the principal homes in the county.

Once their meals were ordered and privacy spells cast, Harry tried to comfort her. "I'm terribly sorry. I know he must feel awful about it."

Hermione snorted. "He's got a funny way of showing it. It's been almost a week, Harry, and not a single owl, not a single attempt to see me. If he'd wanted to apologize, he'd have found a way." Suddenly her appetite was gone and she pushed the plate of breadsticks away. "It just hurt so much coming from him. I'd always thought of him as being on my side, in my corner. He's been nothing but encouraging since I started this venture, and I had every reason to expect that he'd be that way until the conclusion, for better or worse. Now he resents that I haven't accepted his help. Granted, I never let him explain what he wanted to do, how he wanted to help, but it wouldn't have mattered. Actually, he did say that he had some contacts in Games and Sports, and even at the Quidditch League, and he could try and get me meetings with them. Among other things. Oh, I don't know, Harry. Did I make a mistake not accepting?"

Harry shrugged as their food arrived. "You've got to do what you think is best, Hermione. I know you've got strict principles, and if you'd gone about this any other way than what you've done, I think you'd come to regret it. And, if you'd let him help you a lot, you might have come to resent him. I know you don't want that; you two are too close, too good of friends for that."

She felt a little better and gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Harry. I hadn't thought of it that way, but I think you're right. The last thing I'd want to do would be to allow a wedge to grow between us. We work together so closely for the Foundation that it would be awful for there to be tension."

Harry peered at her. "Is that… all?"

Hermione blinked at him and ate a chip. "What do you mean? What else would there be? I think we'll get through this fight much better than we would have weathered such a potentially dramatic series of events if I'd taken his offers. I can absolutely see myself regretting such a decision and then, as you said, resenting _him_ when all along it had been my choice to cave in to his offer."

"This is about your friendship with him?"

"Yes, Harry. It's not like there's anything else going on." The words struck her, and she found herself wishing things could be different. But the dressing down he'd given her left no room for any doubt.

"Okay. I'm just really sorry." Harry gave her a sheepish grin. "Maybe he was having a bad day?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. She considered telling Harry about what had preceded the breakfast, but in the end, she didn't think it was egregious enough to warrant Draco's behavior, so she kept it to herself. "Even if he was, that doesn't make it okay."

"No, of course not. Have you reached out to him? I know you said he hadn't owled…"

"I've done nothing wrong." She sat up taller. "So there's no reason for me to be the one. He was the arse, Harry." She pursed her lips in thought. "I'll apologize for my barb when he apologizes for the skewering he gave me. After all, there are about a hundred better ways to say what he said without getting nasty."

Harry sighed and put his fork down on his empty plate. "I agree. I hope he'll come around soon."

"Me too. I'm not worried about our friendship. Much." She worried her lip, frowning at him apprehensively. "Should I be?"

Harry shook his head, then stood and picked up his tray. "No. It's just a rough patch. You'll get through it. I've got to get back to a meeting. I really can't wait until Draco comes back."

She smiled, trying to feel as confident as Harry sounded. She'd honestly expected to hear from Draco by now, so the fact that he hadn't written or even come by troubled her. She was still very hurt by his words, but she was also very ready to talk through it with him and move on.

Hopefully they'd talk before too long.

They requested their bill, counted out their totals, and left the money on the table. "Oh, I just remembered. Ginny would love to see you. I think she's about to go out of her mind."

"Tell her I'll stop by soon."

"Thanks Hermione." He grinned warmly. "She'll be really glad."

* * *

**Sunday, AUGUST 20**

_Hermione,_

_It has come to my attention that you are seeking a solicitor. Further, that nobody wants to work with you. I'm afraid the word has gone out about what you're trying to do, and nobody wants to touch your project. This is unsettling but unfortunately not surprising. Going up against the Ministry, not to mention the Quidditch League, is often an exercise in futility._

_I know you have turned down my previous offers of assistance, and I hesitate to try again, but since this is a slightly different offer, I thought I'd risk it. My personal solicitor, who works for my family and also the Foundation, has agreed to hear your presentation. As he is paid by me, he need not worry about his future and is therefore free to take on cases nobody else will touch._

_Since he works exclusively for me, I cannot allow anyone else to retain his services. Therefore, any expenses incurred will be my responsibility, as this is not Foundation business._

_Please let me know if you are amenable to meeting with him._

_Narcissa_

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Narcissa,_

_I appreciate your offer more than I can say. You're right; I had a horrible time even getting someone to talk to me, and after the first few attempts, all of my appointments cancelled and no one would return my messages. I'd suspected that there was a concerted effort to avoid me._

_Contrary to popular opinion, I am not unreasonable. I am past the point of painstakingly working my way through the 'proper' channels. As such, I would like very much to accept your offer and meet with your solicitor. Please let him know that I'd like to set something up as soon as possible."_

_Hermione_

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Hermione,_

_I cannot express my delight upon receiving your reply! I'll admit, I didn't expect a favorable response. I've already spoken with Jenkins, my solicitor, and he's available first thing Tuesday. Let's say, nine o'clock? Would you rather come here, to the Manor? Or meet in his office in London?_

_Since I know you'll ask, let me tell you a little about him. I met Jenkins following the second Board Meeting for the Foundation. One of the members suggested him to me as a good candidate to join the team as legal council. I liked him so much, and I agreed with his philosophy so completely, that I decided to hire him as the family solicitor as well, replacing the ancient wizard Lucius had chosen who, as you can imagine, was a staunch pureblood supremacist._

_He is kind, thoughtful, slow to speak, and ready to listen. I think you two will get on swimmingly._

_Narcissa_

-ooo-ooo-ooo-

_Narcissa,_

_Nine is perfect. Let's meet in London, as it'll be slightly more convenient for getting to the Ministry afterwards. I look forward to seeing you._

_Hermione_

The few letters of correspondence from Narcissa were spread on Hermione's desk. It felt a bit strange to now accept her help after rebuffing it for so long, but she felt she had finally exhausted her efforts through Ministry channels. If Draco had only waited, had only trusted her and let her follow her own path, she'd be more than ready to hear what he had to say.

* * *

**Tuesday, AUGUST 22**

To her surprise, the address Narcissa had sent turned out to be in Diagon Alley. As her flat was in the residential part of the wizarding community, she only had to walk a few blocks to reach the correct building.

Hermione was shown into a small conference room that was simply but richly furnished. She found Narcissa there already, in conversation with a wizard who could only be Jenkins. To her great surprise, he wasn't wearing stiff, perfectly tailored robes with expensive details and dragon-hide boots. Instead, he wore robes designed for comfort and, after glancing quickly at his feet, sandals. He made a very striking contrast to Narcissa, dressed impeccably, as always. The secretary introduced Hermione, and Narcissa smiled at her brightly.

"Hermione, dear. So glad we could make this work." She crossed the room, took Hermione's arm, and led her over to Jenkins. "My solicitor, Abram Jenkins. Abram, this is Hermione Granger."

Jenkins held out his hand, and Hermione shook it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger." He was an older man, had to be at least a hundred, but rather than appear stuffy, as she'd expected, he reminded her more of Dumbledore when he was at his most jovial. It must have been the twinkle in his eyes.

"I believe we've met already." Hermione smiled. "At a Foundation event, last year I believe, and had a lengthy conversation about the merits of Stingweed in the garden."

Jenkins let out a roaring laugh. "Oh, I think we'll have to continue to agree to disagree on that point." He clapped his hands. "So, Miss Granger. Narcissa's told me the basics of what's going on, but I'd like to hear from you." He motioned for her to sit, and then he and Narcissa did as well.

"What would you like to know?" Hermione asked, folding her hands on the table.

"Why don't you start from the beginning? I'd like to hear how you got involved, what you've done so far, and the response you've received. I can guess as to the generalities, but I'd like to know specifics." He folded his arms and sat back in his chair, his whole attention focused on her.

Hermione cleared her throat and began. She spoke for over thirty minutes, Jenkins only interrupting twice to ask for clarification. When she finished, nobody said a word at first.

Jenkins frowned thoughtfully, rocking slightly in his seat. Hermione glanced to Narcissa, who seemed perfectly at ease, as though it was normal for him to spend many silent minutes in her presence.

Finally, Jenkins leaned forward on the table. "I believe, Miss Granger, that you must prepare for your efforts to be unsuccessful. Not because they are without merit—quite the contrary, your case is compelling and should be an easy win. The fact that you've met with resistance on what, at first blush, appears to be very straight-forward, is what concerns me. There is a reason why this Quidditch stadium plan is still moving forward despite a very clear treaty with the pixies in the forest."

Hermione scoffed. "Yeah. Galleons. It's very simple."

Jenkins nodded. "I've no doubt you're right. Are you prepared to lose?"

"But—how can I? You just said yourself that it's a very clear case, one that shouldn't have even gotten this far!" She was incredulous at the man's attitude, despite liking him.

"In my experience, when the Ministry wants something, the Ministry gets it." He smiled kindly. "I would be very happy to work with you, Miss Granger. I believe you are in the right, no matter the outcome, but I need you to fully accept the probability that you will lose."

Hermione bit her lip. The thought of ultimately failing in her efforts had never entered her mind. After her first meeting with her boss, back in June, she knew she'd be in for a battle. When the meeting with her department head had gone even worse, a cold weight had settled into her stomach and she'd realized that going through the Ministry would most likely not produce the result she hoped for.

Yet because her cause had been right, both ethically and legally, she'd taken it for granted that, in the end, somehow, she would be victorious. And now, in her first meeting with someone as she sought to go outside the usual Ministry channels, she was being told that it was most likely she'd lose.

"Forgive me, Mr. Jenkins. How can you say that you agree with me but then in the next breath, tell me we'll probably lose?"

"I certainly don't know what will happen, of course." He spread out his hands. "I only know that, for many decades, I've been taking cases before the Wizengamot—cases which should have been simple, straight-forward—only to see the Ministry do what it wished. Sometimes, that happened to coincide with what I wished, but I was never under any illusions that they ruled in my favor because it was the right thing to do—or, at least, what I felt was right. Like so many of the human race, they are motivated primarily by power, content to pass laws that are helpful to the populace when it also suits their agenda." He smiled warmly. "However, that doesn't mean we don't still try. What do you say? Shall we work together on this?"

Hermione's blood was boiling as she thought of the Ministry, of its antiquated laws, its attitude towards those considered 'less-than-human,' and the way it treated Harry throughout the war. She wasn't ready to accept that they wouldn't win, but she did see Jenkins's point. His last statement, that just because one knows or suspects one will lose, doesn't mean one shouldn't try, resonated deeply with her.

"I'm in."

Jenkins beamed. "Excellent, most excellent. Let's meet back here in a few days after I've had a chance to familiarize myself with the details. You can send me everything you've found, and I'll be able to read through it all." He stood.

Hermione did as well. "Thank you, Mr. Jenkins. I will do that."

**Monday, AUGUST 28**

Hermione left straight from work to head to the Potter home. She went to Diagon Alley and grabbed a bouquet of flowers, a tub of Ginny's favorite ice cream, and a wooden rattle for the baby before Apparating to her friends' house. She hadn't been there for a couple of weeks and she felt bad for such a long gap between visits.

Harry let her in with a quick hug, then took the ice cream. "Shall I prepare bowls for you two?"

She laughed. "You know your wife well."

They went into the kitchen, where Harry procured the necessary items for serving the ice cream. "How are things going with Jenkins?"

Hermione beamed. "Oh, Harry, I can't tell you how wonderful it is that someone is listening to me!" She shrugged out of her cloak and hung it on a hook by the door. "He's also doing his best to temper my expectations—and has a very low opinion of justice at the Ministry—but I can't help but be excited. He actually listens to every single point I have, he asks questions, he challenges my point of view, all in an effort to make the case stronger."

"That's wonderful! Has nobody ever done that before?" Harry looked shocked.

She shifted her weight, her lips pursing slightly. "Well, Draco did. But not exactly. I can't explain it. Jenkins knows wizarding law better than anyone I've ever met, and while Draco meant well, he couldn't give me the insight Jenkins can."

Harry put the lid on the ice cream and found a spot for it in the refrigerator. "So you're hopeful, then?"

"Yes. Even though Jenkins tells me not to be." She poured herself a glass of water and carried it and her bowl into the living room. "I don't see how we can lose, Harry. The law is clearly on our side."

He carried Ginny's bowl and followed her. After setting it down, he gave her a skeptical look. "I'm with Jenkins, Hermione. If anybody can find a way to screw up and willfully ignore the law, it's the Ministry."

Ginny entered the room then and clapped her hands upon seeing the ice cream. "Hermione, you're amazing. And these flowers are beautiful!" They hugged, and Hermione handed over the rattle, wrapped neatly in a bit of paper with a ribbon to tie it closed. "You didn't have to!"

"It's not much."

"Eloise is sleeping, but come on back and you can see her. I just set her down on the bed so I could change my shirt, and she was asleep when I turned around." Ginny motioned toward her bed where Eloise lay, her arms slightly splayed, wrapped in a soft, gauzy blanket.

"Oh, Gin, she is perfect!" Hermione got as close as she dared, admiring every little wrinkle, every breath, every little sound she made.

"I know," said Ginny with a grin. Then she yawned. "I'm sorry."

Harry poked his head around the corner. "Ginny, I've put a Stasis Charm on the ice cream, but you know it's not quite the same if you leave it a long time. Why don't you two go eat? I'll stay in here in case Eloise wakes up."

Ginny kissed him briefly on the cheek. "I would jump you right now if, you know, we didn't have company."

Hermione shook her head and chuckled while Harry turned as red as Ginny's hair. His wife laughed as she led Hermione down the hall. They collected their bowls and went into the sitting room. Ginny propped her feet up on the coffee table and eyed her bowl. "I hope this is enough. I'll probably need more."

Hermione laughed. "How have you been? Getting enough rest?"

"Oh, well, I sleep when I can. Mum's been great, taking James for a couple of nights here and there. He's with my parents tonight, actually, since I mentioned that you were stopping by."

"I'm sure it's wonderful having so much family around." Her heart ached for a moment at the thought that she only had her parents, and should she ever have a child, she'd want her mother there as much as possible.

Ginny shrugged as she took another large bite. "Yeah, it's great when it's great. But you know, it has its drawbacks, too."

"I'm sure it does." Hermione ate her ice cream slowly, one small bite at a time. Her mind wandered to Draco, whom she still hadn't heard a word from. Maybe she had hurt him more than she'd imagined. Everything was compounded by the fact that, thanks to Pansy, she'd just opened her heart and mind up to the idea that maybe, possible, he _did_ have feelings for her.

"Earth to Hermione!"

She looked up, startled from her thoughts, to find that the spoon she was holding, with a generous bite of ice cream on it, was resting on the edge of the bowl. It had been so long since she'd moved that the treat was beginning to melt.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly, eating the bite.

"Where were you just now?" Ginny peered at her with fresh interest. "Had to be something good. I was in the middle of a long, drawn-out tale of how Ron and Charlie once got into a fight and turned the entire field around our house into a swamp, complete with American alligators and Burmese pythons. I thought for sure you'd start correcting me on what types of trees could live in such an environment, but you just nodded blankly."

Hermione chuckled. "Really?"

Ginny nodded, then nudged Hermione with her knee. "So spill. You owe me. My story was bordering on absurd so I need something really interesting to make up for it."

Hermione sighed and set her bowl down. She hadn't told anybody about her feelings, and she was desperate to talk to _someone_ about it. Pansy simply wouldn't do, much as she liked the witch. The only thing that held her back from telling Ginny was Harry. Could she keep it from him?

"If I tell you something, you have to promise not to speak a word of it to anyone."

Ginny's eyes lit up and she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "You're shagging someone."

Hermione blinked then shook her head. "No, Ginny. Nowhere close to that. Do you want to know or not?"

Ginny nodded eagerly. "I won't tell a soul."

"Not even Harry."

Something like indecision flashed through Ginny's eyes, then she waved a hand. "All right. Sure. Not even Harry."

"I mean it, Gin. This is… well, it's important to me. Harry cannot know. Specifically." She felt like surely Ginny was about to guess the truth. What possible reason would Hermione have for not wanting Harry to find out? Naturally, her very biased mind reasoned that it would have to be about Harry's partner.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "You're not in love with Harry, right?"

Hermione made a face. "No offense, but gross, Ginny." She shuddered.

"Fine. Fine, I won't tell Harry. I promise." She pulled out her wand and muttered a secrecy spell. "I swear I won't repeat what you say between casting this spell and then ending it."

"You didn't need to do that." She still relaxed anyway.

"I know, but I can tell when you're very serious and I didn't want to sit and go through twenty minutes of back and forth promises and hesitation. Now. Tell me what's so important." Ginny snuggled further into the sofa, pulling the ice cream bowl close again.

Hermione bit her lip. Now that she was on the cusp of speaking words out loud that had only spun round in her head, she wasn't sure how to get them out. "Um. Yes, well. Let's see. It's just—"

"You miss Marcus?"

Hermione frowned. "I don't, actually. Why?"

Ginny took a large bit of ice cream. "Just throwing things out there. Although, I suppose it wouldn't be too hard for you to say you miss your ex-boyfriend. Wait, did he even get that title? I want to say no. So, it's not Marcus. But it's something."

"I can say it." Hermione spoke through clenched teeth, more because she was annoyed at herself than Ginny.

"But it's fun guessing. Hm, let me think." Ginny studied her carefully as she took a few more bites. "You fancy someone?"

Hermione nodded.

"And I can't tell Harry, which is an important detail." Ginny's eyes began widening to the side of saucers. "It's Malfoy, isn't it?"

"Why would you say that?"

Ginny shrugged. "Makes sense as to why I can't tell Harry. Although, I don't think Harry would run off and tell him. I'm not sure they have that kind of relationship. I know he respects Malfoy a lot and hates who he's been paired with lately, but the last thing he would do is meddle in your relationship with him."

Hermione let out a long breath. "You don't hate the idea?"

"You and Malfoy? No. Pansy's in favor of it, I think. Based on some things she's said."

"I'm not sure I ever really know what Pansy thinks about things. I've heard her list half a dozen women she thinks might be suited for him." Technically, this was true. Over the months since Pansy had waltzed into their lives in a significant way as Ron's girlfriend, she'd talked about Draco and his love life more times than Hermione could count. Nothing had ever been stated with much evidence or conviction, though Pansy _had_ connected him with _her_ more than with anyone else. Hermione had concluded it was simply because she was the one Pansy was talking to. Plus, by Pansy's own observations, Draco spent more time with her than any of the others.

"Oh, she certainly thinks you're the best candidate for owning his heart." Ginny tilted the bowl up to her lips, drinking the melted remains of her ice cream. "She's narrowed it down to you. I'm sure she doesn't talk to you about it that much, but she's been spending a lot of time at The Burrow lately—though I haven't been in a few weeks, since Eloise was born—and it was one of her favorite topics. I don't know why." Ginny set her bowl down and repositioned herself on the sofa to better face Hermione. "Well? Tell me everything! When did this start? Does he know? Have you gone out with him?"

"No! He doesn't know!" Hermione gasped in horror. "He's currently quite angry with me, in point of fact."

"Why?"

Hermione took a deep breath and told Ginny everything. From the first night out when Pansy mentioned that she thought they'd be good together, to all the time spent trying not to think about what Pansy had said, to the night when she realized she _did,_ in fact, have feelings for him, Pansy's opinion that he fancied her as well, then finally ending up with the disastrous brunch in Hogsmeade.

Ginny sat wide-eyed through the whole thing. When Hermione finished her tale, Ginny sat back, mulling over everything she'd just said. "And he hasn't reached out?"

"No. Nothing. I've concluded that, somehow, his anger toward me had been building and I had no idea. I think it finally just exploded that day." She looked at her hands in her lap, tears blurring her vision. She didn't want to cry about this again, but speaking everything out loud had been both difficult and important. When she repeated his words for Ginny, she felt their sting again.

"I don't think, just because he yelled at you, that necessarily means he doesn't fancy you."

Hermione's heart sank. "You weren't there, Gin. You didn't see his face, feel the waves of anger pouring off him." She shook her head. "No, I'm now completely convinced that Pansy is absolutely wrong. He's spent more time with his neighbor than me, lately, anyway. On the off chance that he once _did_ have feelings for me, I'm sure they're long gone. I told you, he's been pulling away from me, even in our friendship, the last few months. We'd come close to clashing over this pixie business before that Saturday, not because he doesn't agree with me, but, as he so loudly shouted at me, because I wouldn't accept his help."

Ginny sighed and was about to speak when she heard the baby start to cry. "What horrible timing! Let me grab her." She started to get up but Harry appeared, bouncing Eloise as he came. He brought her to Ginny who started to nurse her.

Harry then went into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a large glass of water for Ginny. She thanked him gratefully and shooed him away.

But Hermione had no intention of discussing Draco anymore. She'd shared her feelings with Ginny, felt a little bit better about it, and was perhaps a little closer to putting them behind her.

**ooo**

Hermione Apparated home after a lovely evening with her friends and their newborn. At one point, Eloise fell asleep on her, and she got to cradle the tiny human in her arms for over an hour. She made gentle humming sounds as she breathed, and Hermione was thoroughly enchanted.

With the end of the month nearing, Hermione felt slightly adrift. Her progress with the pixie case had failed within the Ministry, through normal, bureaucratic channels, and now she was embarking on a very different journey.

She'd confessed her feelings for Draco, while at the same time concluding that they were hopeless. What a difference a month made, as it was only at the end of July that she'd wondered if he might feel something for her. As the weeks stretched on with no word from him, she was beginning to wonder if their friendship was even salvageable. She didn't like to think of it ending, but she wasn't going to be the one to reach out first.

Although… she knew she had a stubborn streak, and she knew that he did, too. Perhaps she was being _too_ stubborn. Maybe, if she apologized for her barb, he would soften and do the same. It was something she'd need to consider because, when she really thought about it, she didn't want to lose his friendship.

That said, however, she wanted him to be the one to reach out. And honestly, she was still hurt when she thought about it, so she didn't see herself trying to talk to him anytime soon. For now, if he missed her, at all, or even just a little bit, he would have to come to her.


	9. September

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is invited for a picnic, celebrates her birthday, and hears from the Wizengamot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Reader: As you might have noticed, it's the LAST day of September. I am truly sorry that this took so long to finish. A REAL LIFE obligation sprang up that required all of my attention for a few days, and I've tried sneaking in moments of writing and editing over the past few days, but it's not been at all consistent or what I would have liked. BUT, nevertheless, in my time zone at least, it's still the last day of September, and so here I am with this chapter!
> 
> The challenge for this month was a word find, and I had to use the first 3 words I saw out of the 15 possible. My words were: flower, Legilimancy, and broomstick. I hope you enjoy this month's chapter!
> 
> Many endless thanks, as always, to my betas, dreamsoframione and dormiensa! Beautiful chapter graphics by dreamsofdramione!!
> 
>   
> 

* * *

**Friday, 1 SEPTEMBER**

Hermione hesitated to turn the page in her planner. It was Friday, she was at work, and there was an extremely prominent date circled the very next week.

Friday, 8 September, she and the solicitor would be filing the papers with the Wizengamot to expose and attempt to prevent what was in the works. She had no idea what would happen next, but she had a strange feeling that if someone saw the miniscule star she'd drawn in the box they would somehow know what it meant.

It was silly, of course; none of her co-workers had ever so much as looked in her planner and would certainly have no suspicions about a tiny gold star.

She had already sent Harry a note saying she wouldn't be able to meet him for lunch. Jenkins had sent her a note requesting a meeting as soon as possible, and lunch was the best option since the meeting would certainly not be for work.

The day flew by and her nerves steadily mounted as the lunch hour neared. When the minute hand reached the nine, she jumped up, grabbed her bag, and made her way to the atrium.

She arrived in Jenkins' office with two minutes to spare, rapped on the door, and nearly fainted when the knocker spoke to her.

"Name?" The voice was exactly what she'd have expected from a brass door knocker: metallic and slightly melodious, as if a trumpet could speak.

"Hermione Granger. I've an appointment at noon."

"You may enter." The door swung open, and she went through, startling when the door slammed shut behind her.

Although the space seemed more like her grandmother's living room than a law office. Three old, floral chairs sat around a coffee table positioned by a small fireplace. A tea service and biscuits were on the table, all ready to go. There was what she assumed was a desk in a corner, though she couldn't see an inch of wood because of all the books and rolls of parchment scattered on it, around it, and behind it.

After looking around the room, she still hadn't seen an actual person. "Mr. Jenkins?"

"Oh, good, you're here."

Hermione spun round and saw a secret doorway slide shut, Abram Jenkins had clearly just entered through it.

"Pardon me, I had to use the facilities. I should have known you'd be right on time, though." He smiled congenially. "Have a seat. Tea?" He motioned toward the chairs near the fire, and Hermione nodded and sat down. "I thought we should chat." Jenkins began to pour the tea, then Hermione prepared hers how she liked it.

"I'll admit, I'm a little anxious about why you called me here." The tea was excellent, and Hermione helped herself to a biscuit.

Jenkins sighed. "I've been working diligently on this since we met a few weeks ago, Miss Granger. I've spoken to a lot of people, probably many of the same people you spoke to. Nobody was terribly helpful, and some were downright rude." He stirred a lump of sugar into his tea. "There was one particularly nasty comment that sounded suspiciously like a threat. Something to the effect that you should keep your nose out of places where it doesn't belong, or you might not be employed much longer."

"I've wondered about that." Hermione bit her lip. "I know they've tolerated me through all of this, likely because of who I am, but once I take this to the Wizengamot… I can't imagine my boss will like that. Nor will the Minister."

"You should probably prepare yourself to make that decision." Jenkins peered at her intently over the rim of his spectacles. "What will you do if you must choose between continuing down this path and your job?"

"I'll consider it carefully. Thank you. Was that all you wanted to discuss?"

Jenkins shook his head. "I thought we should go through what I've learned. It's not much, since nobody was terribly helpful, but we might find something of note if we both look over everything together."

Hermione nodded. "All right. Let's do it."

* * *

**Saturday, 2 SEPTEMBER**

"I'm glad that's over with." Pansy flicked an errant feather off her coat as they exited the bridal shop.

Hermione looked away so she could roll her eyes. They'd been at the shop for nearly four hours, and in the end Pansy chose the fifth dress she'd tried on the very first time they came, the one everyone in the shop had grown quiet over. It was now nearly seven, and Hermione was hungry.

Just as she was about to say goodbye to Pansy, the other witch looped her arm through hers. "Time for dinner. What sounds good?"

"Oh, Pansy, I—"

"Don't say a single word. I know I've put you through an ordeal with this dress, but I'm so glad it's finally sorted. We're going to dinner, my treat, and that's final."

Hermione had learned when it was wise to simply go along with Pansy, and truly, she loved the idea of ending the evening with her friend. Maybe she'd even hear some news of Draco.

"Three Broomsticks?" Hermione suggested.

Pansy scrunched up her nose. "Not exactly what I was thinking. Come on."

The short walk was pleasant, and within five minutes, Pansy had given her name to the maître de at Hogsmeade's finest restaurant and they were waiting for a table.

"Are you sure?" Hermione felt distinctly underdressed, but Pansy dismissed her with a wave.

"Of course. I just bought my wedding dress, and I want a decent glass of wine."

Hermione laughed, acknowledging to herself that a glass of wine sounded lovely.

"Miss Parkinson?" the host called. "Right this way."

They were shown to a table and Hermione ended up with her back to the door. They started looking at their menus, but Hermione hadn't even made it past the wine selection when Pansy set her menu down, beaming at something over Hermione's shoulder and motioning for whoever it was to come over.

"What is it?" Hermione started to turn but there was no need.

In seconds, Draco had appeared, causing Hermione's heart to start pounding uncomfortably.

Pansy stood and greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, then sat back down. "So good to see you, Draco! Would you like to join us?" She motioned to one of the empty chairs.

Hermione's eyes went wide; did Pansy not remember what had happened last time? Not to mention the witch knew she and Draco had yet to patch things up! Her cheeks began to burn, and she stared down at the table, trying to decide what to do.

"Thank you, Pansy, but no. I'd like to speak to you, Hermione, if you'll let me."

"Oh, um, all right. If that's okay with you, Pansy." She looked to her friend, torn between hoping that Pansy would object but also curious to see what he wanted to say.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "I'm not your mother, of course. Go on. I might eat without you."

Draco chuckled, glancing nervously toward Hermione.

Slightly exasperated and ridiculously nervous, she stood, setting her napkin down very deliberately and following him through the restaurant. He led her outside, and they walked away from the busy entrance. Hermione had her arms folded across her chest; she wished she'd brought her coat. September in Scotland was chilly.

Without a word between them, Draco removed his outer cloak, which he hadn't taken off upon entering the restaurant, and wrapped it around her shoulders. It smelled like him, and she fought the urge to take a deep breath.

They walked a little down the street, neither speaking at first. Then Draco sighed. "Listen, Hermione. I'm really sorry for what I said the last time I saw you. It was completely uncalled for and I've regretted it ever since."

She clenched her teeth. "You regretted it so much that you're only now apologizing? Upon happening to see me?" Although a little niggling voice in the back of her mind casually suggested that perhaps it wasn't all that much of a coincidence; she wouldn't put it past Pansy to have orchestrated the whole thing.

He grimaced. "I know. I should've owled. After I left you and Pansy, I went back to the castle, and just as I got to work, there was a major setback with misordered supplies that required all of our attention. It took a full week to sort out what we'd found, and I can count on one hand the number of hours of sleep I got per night. When it was all finally over, we were so far behind on our schedule that nobody had a moment to spare." He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Besides, it wasn't something I could say in a letter. It needed to be done in person." He stopped walking and turned to face her. "I'm truly sorry."

Part of her wanted to stay mad at him. It had been easier for her to ignore her feelings in the weeks since their rift; of course, his behavior toward her had helped with that, as well. But of course there was the part of her that had missed him terribly in the months leading up to their fight. "Well, thank you for saying that."

They resumed their slow walk. "The truth is," he said, "of course I know what you're doing, and why. But it's… hard to see you suffer when I could very likely have helped—I _wanted_ to." Then he frowned. "Though, you made it quite clear you didn't want my help, on more than one occasion."

"I am sorry for what I said as well. About not wanting 'your kind of help.'" She threw up her hands apologetically. "I'm sure that you took it as some sort of attack on your past, and I probably wanted you to think that, but all I really meant was that I didn't want you to swoop in and throw money at anyone in order to move things forward. It had nothing to do with any shady dealings or dark magic."

Draco stopped, dragging a hand through his hair. "This… this is the only way I know how to help. I have money, I use it. Is it so wrong to use what I've got for a good cause?"

"Money should never be involved in policy, Draco. That's exactly why the pixies are being disenfranchised as we speak. The Quidditch League has the money to push their agenda. If the Ministry turns a blind eye to this, what's to keep everyone with money from supporting other causes they want to see forwarded? Who decides which policies are enacted in that instance? I'll tell you who: the people with the most money." She balled both her hands into fists. "And they aren't usually interested in what's the best policy for the moment, only in what they want. Surely you can understand that."

After a long moment, he nodded. "Yes." The confession seemed to leave him bereft. "But if I don't have my money, my resources, what do I have?"

"You are a wonderful man, Draco. And you're using what you have in the best possible way. You throw lavish parties and ask people to donate to causes that have been chosen and vetted by not just you, but a whole team of people dedicated to changing the world for the better. You don't really want to sneak around, buying off politicians and manipulating people into doing what you want. That system will crumble as soon as someone else comes along with a better offer than yours."

"You're right, of course." His smile was thin but genuine. "As you so often are."

"And, while I'm on the subject, you're selling yourself short saying that your money is _all_ you have to offer. The way you connected with Tabitha and worked for her—"

"Using my money, remember?" He kicked a rock on the ground.

"Yes, but it's your connection with her that she will always remember, far more than the money. Your financial contribution only told her you were a rich man. The way you befriended her, listened to her, really took the time to get to know her? That tells her you are a _good_ man." Her heart felt so very full and she desperately wanted to touch him, to put her hand on his arm, link her arm through his, even put her palm to his cheek. She truly admired so much about him.

He shifted and rubbed the back of his neck, clearly unaccustomed to such praise. "Well, thanks, Hermione. That… that means a lot."

They resumed walking, crossing the street when they reached the end of it and heading back toward the restaurant. She wanted to keep talking to him; she'd missed him so much over the past few months. "How did things at Hogwarts wrap up? Everything finished? What about your special project? Did you complete it?"

He chuckled. "I did manage it, barely, though. I hardly slept those last two weeks, less every successive night. And then once it was done, I don't think I left my bed for two days. Minerva wanted me to be there for the Sorting Feast yesterday so she could say nice things about me I don't deserve. It was a lot of fun despite that, but I think I crawled out of bed about an hour before it started."

Hermione laughed. "That's wonderful. And I'm certain you completely deserved every nice word she said. I'm dying to know, was Tabitha Sorted into Slytherin?"

"Yes! Quickly." He smiled to himself, likely reliving the memory. "Probably almost as quickly as I was."

"I know the Sorting Hat had barely touched the top of your head before it shouted 'Slytherin!'" She nudged him playfully.

He puffed out his chest with pride. "Unapologetically Slytherin through and though."

Hermione smiled, thinking back to her own Sorting experience and the how difficult it was for the Hat to place her. "Are you back at work on Monday? Harry misses you something dreadful."

Draco chuckled. "He kept me regularly informed about the incompetence of everyone around him. Though, to be fair, his complaints have seemed mostly rote lately. I think he's getting used to me not being there."

Something in his phrasing caught Hermione off guard. "Will you not be going back?"

He looked at her sharply. "I absolutely will. Did you think I would be quitting the Ministry?"

"You seem to be having such a grand time up here, I just wondered if you'd go back." She noted the tinge of bitterness in her own voice and hoped he didn't catch it.

"No. I miss my work as an Auror. This project has been good for so many reasons, and I feel that I've truly made a difference, but being an Auror is a challenge unlike any other." He smirked. "Not least of which is getting Potter to write a decent report now and again."

Hermione laughed. "Oh, Harry. He's absolute rubbish at them, isn't he?"

They neared the restaurant, and Hermione sighed with the realization that she'd have no reason to continue walking and talking with Draco. Light spilled from the windows and door, bathing the street in streaks of gold. Now and then, laughter could be heard bursting forth, and she knew how cozy it was inside. Movement at the edge of her vision drew her gaze, and she saw Suzanne headed their way.

"Oh, there's your neighbor."

Draco followed her gaze, then grabbed her wrist and quickly pulled her into the nearest alley, much to Hermione's amusement. He peered around the corner once, then pressed himself against the brick wall.

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

He didn't speak at first, then sighed. "I did something stupid."

Her blood froze. There was only one thing she could think of that he might have done and then, coupled with him avoiding the woman, call it stupid. "What?"

He closed his eyes and groaned. "I kissed her."

It wasn't quite what she'd been expecting, but in some ways, it felt worse. A shag you regret was one thing; a kiss, in some ways, could be more intimate and indicate deeper feelings. But she forced a smile.

"I see. How long ago was this?" The words came out robotically, and only because she knew that she had to say something, as he was expecting it. Saying something was the friendly thing to do. And they were friends—only friends, always and forever friends.

"Night before last. It was after we put the finishing touches on all of the work and inspected it with Minerva and a few of the professors. I was in quite a good mood that night."

What would a good friend say? "Well, what's stupid about that? She seemed very nice when I met her."

He cringed. "The problem is that I'm not sure how I feel about her."

Hermione didn't have anything to say to that.

Draco leaned around the corner. "I don't see her." He didn't move, though, and she became instantly aware of how close they were—so close they were touching and she could feel the pressure of his arm against hers. Draco stayed pressed against the wall as though worried that Suzanne might still be lurking. Then he turned his head to look at her, and her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were mesmerizing, and enveloped in his cloak, surrounded by his scent, she couldn't help but think of kissing him. He looked torn, his expression wrenching into obvious pain, and he turned away.

Hermione shut her eyes and let out a shaky breath. It would have been stupid, to borrow his wording.

"Well, you've got lots of time to figure it out."

"Figure what out?" With one more glance out into the alleyway, Draco finally relaxed.

"How you feel about her."

His head spun around and he gave her an alarmed look.

"I should get back to Pansy." Hermione exited the alley and waited for him to join her. Together they crossed the street in silence. Outside the restaurant, standing in one of the golden, glowing patches of light, they paused. "Thank you for apologizing. I'm glad we can be friends again."

"Of course." His responding smile was strained. "I was a complete and utter arse, and I hate that it took me so long to be able to tell you so."

"You were busy, as you said."

Her reply must have been wrong because his frown deepened. "That's no excuse, though. You mean too much to me to risk ruining our friendship. I should have made time to come to you sooner."

"Well, it's done now." Hermione shrugged, biting her lip to keep from screaming. How many times had they clearly defined their relationship in the last five minutes? More than she wanted to hear for a lifetime. "We can move on."

"I'll be leaving tomorrow. I'd have done so already, but my landlady let me stay through the weekend so I could be here for the Feast. But I'm all packed and ready to go. During my two months here, the least on my flat ended, and I opted not to renew it. Everything's already been sent to the Manor. I'm not sure where I'll end up next, but I'm ready for a change. I'm sure I'll see you around the Ministry again next week."

She glanced into the restaurant, anxious about Pansy waiting. "Good luck," she said, distractedly, turning back to him. "Well, good night, then."

"Good night, Hermione." He leaned infinitesimally forward, paused, and then stepped all the way over to her and wrapped her in an embrace.

It wasn't something they did all that frequently. For Hermione, he'd always been very emotionally and intellectually available, but touching had felt off-limits from the beginning. He was physically reserved with everyone, so much so that when he'd guided Astoria through the tent in April, one hand on her lower back and the other on her arm, it had felt like a physical blow to her—and a wake-up call like nothing she'd ever experienced.

She stood with her arms straight down; he'd moved so quickly she hadn't been able to properly return the gesture. After half a second, though, she raised them to hug him back as best she could. Her mind was entirely blank. All she wanted to do was exist in the moment, to enjoy his arms around her, to memorize the feel of him so close, even through all of their clothing.

It ended far too soon.

Draco pulled away, grinning sheepishly. "Well, I'll leave you to it, then. Bye." He started to walk away and he'd made it half a block when she remembered his cloak.

"Oh, Draco!" She shrugged out of it, immediately missing its warmth, and held it out toward him. "You forgot this!"

He jogged back and took it from her, slipping his arms through the sleeves with practiced ease. "Thanks. I'd have missed this before too long." He gave a small wave and resumed his course.

Hermione wanted to watch until he disappeared but decided she'd better not risk it. What explanation could she give if he turned around and caught her staring? With a heavy sigh, she trudged inside to find Pansy watching her with a triumphant, mischievous expression on her face. Inwardly groaning, not sure how she could possibly rebuff Pansy's efforts at extracting a confession, Hermione steeled herself and plastered on a smile. The last thing she wanted to do, after hearing that Draco had just kissed his neighbor, was tell Pansy how she felt about him.

"Where have you two been?" Pansy asked, waggling her eyebrows. "I was beginning to think you'd ditched me for a better offer."

Hermione rolled her eyes and waved nonchalantly. "He apologized about what happened at brunch. That's all."

"That was a very long apology." Pansy smirked. "Did you… kiss and make up, by chance?"

"No, Pansy. We're just friends." Hermione sat up straight and spread her napkin on her lap. "But speaking of kissing, he did tell me that he kissed his neighbor recently."

Pansy's expression went from one of smug superiority to downright shock. "He _what_?"

"Looks like you were wrong after all." Hermione sipped from her drink as though absolutely nothing in the world was the slightest bit noteworthy. She didn't need to tell Pansy _everything_ Draco had said, that would only lead to endless speculation, and frankly, Hermione didn't want to sit and listen to it all evening. "So, what's the next stop on the wedding train? Now that you've got a dress, I'm sure there's a whole host of other things that require decisions to prolong and agonize over."

Pansy narrowed her eyes for a moment, then huffed. "Fine. Don't think I don't see what you're doing. And just you wait until it's _your_ turn. It's not like I enjoy all of these decisions. But I do think a color scheme is next in order, followed quickly by the dress _you_ will be wearing." That made her smile.

"I'm glad that you found your dress, Pansy. I thought you'd choose it weeks ago. Everyone in the shop thought so, too." Hermione grinned. "It was perfect and looked beautiful on you. And, you know it was sparkly."

Pansy gave her a skeptical look but couldn't hold it for long before she started laughing. "Literally! There are more crystals on it than I've ever seen before, but that's just what I want. It makes me feel…"

"Sparkly!"

They dissolved into laughter and then got down to the business of eating.

* * *

**Friday, 8 September  
**

"Are you nervous?"

Hermione gave Harry a look. "What do you think?"

He shrugged and started cutting his steak and kidney pie. "Honestly I've no idea. You keep surprising me."

"I'm nervous, but I think more so because this is probably my last day." She frowned at her vegetable medley. "I'm going to meet with my boss at two, tell him what I'm doing, and then take the proposal to the Wizengamot at three. Jenkins is meeting me there for that. I can't imagine my Department Head will be too happy with me."

"What will you do if they want you out? Surely they can't fire you, can they?"

Hermione snorted. "We're not in the Muggle world, Harry. Workers protections aren't guaranteed the way we're used to. And maybe they wouldn't fire me, but they could transfer me somewhere miserable and I'd end up quitting. I've thought about quitting anyway, it's not like my job really made any kind of difference. Draco's done more in the last six months than I've done in my time at the Ministry—five years, Harry!"

Harry grinned at the mention of his partner. "Yeah, he has, but he also does a lot of good work here."

"I know. He mentioned that he really likes being an Auror."

"Talk to him, did you? You two sort everything out?" Harry wouldn't quite meet her eyes.

Hermione suspected he already knew everything but was asking because that's what was expected of him. That would have meant Draco had talked about it—though, knowing Harry, he might have pried the information out of Draco. "Yes. He apologized. As did I, but he initiated it."

"As he should have." Harry pointed his fork at her.

"Right. I suspect Pansy set the whole thing up. The set up played out a little too perfectly to be coincidence, but I'm glad she did. I know for a fact he wouldn't have said it if he didn't mean it." Hermione was trying to decide if she should go back for the fruit tart she'd passed up her first time through the line.

"Too right. I'm glad he's back, though." Harry shook his head. "I had no idea just how good I had it with him for a partner until I was stuck with whoever else happened to need a partner that day as well."

She decided against the tart, not wanting to risk feeling off for her afternoon. "I'm glad to hear you two are back together."

"Speaking of people being together. He told me he's got a date tonight."

Hermione was thankful that she wasn't looking at her friend, and she made every effort to continue her movements as though completely unaffected by what he'd just said. "Oh?"

"Did you ever hear about his neighbor in Hogsmeade?"

Every word Harry spoke pounded a spike deeper and deeper into her heart, and he'd said them so effortlessly, so unaware of the pain he was inflicting with each syllable. When Harry glanced up at her with his brow furrowed, she realized she hadn't responded. Forcing a smile, she cleared her throat. "I, um, yes, we met, actually, that day Draco and I had our fight."

Harry's eyes went wide. "Yeah? What did you think? Do you like her?"

"I couldn't really say." Hermione shrugged, conscious of every move she made. "She seemed nice enough. We only interacted for a few minutes."

"He said it's their first date. I don't know. I don't like it. He goes away for two months and comes back and… he's going to start dating someone? I don't even know her!"

"Should he have asked you first?" Hermione quipped, not quite feeling tethered to the earth. Humor was good, making a joke at Harry's expense was good.

Harry gave an exaggerated huff. "Well, I _am_ his partner. It would have been the considerate thing to do."

"You two will work it out, I'm sure." Hermione rolled her eyes. "I should get going, I can't sit here any longer. I may need to pace the length and width of the Ministry this afternoon before my meeting. I'm starting to feel a little anxious."

It was amazing how quickly Harry dropped the pretend-offended expression, his face instead morphing into a look of concern. "Anything I can do?"

"No, but thank you. I appreciate it." Hermione smiled warmly as she stood to go. "I'll see you around, Harry."

It was one of the first times she'd left before him, but the room had started to close in on her, and she needed some fresh air.

Once outside the Ministry, she felt like she could take a full breath again. She inhaled deeply a few times, then sat on a bench nearby to think.

So, Draco was now seeing Suzanne. It was interesting because the last thing she'd heard— _directly from him—_ was that he wasn't sure how he felt about her. But that had been almost a week ago; it sounded as though he'd figured some things out.

Well, good for him. She wanted him to be happy, she truly did, even if it _was_ with someone else. And she'd repeat this to herself until she fully believed it.

**ooo**

The conversation with her boss did not go well. He'd even gone so far as to tell her she had to choose: keep her job or pursue the case.

In a moment of perfect clarity, she'd seen the path before her if she chose to stay, and it was the easiest decision she'd ever made. She'd told him with her head held high that she wanted to help people, and not just the wealthiest or most powerful people. Her heart was with those less fortunate, those unable to speak for themselves.

Then she'd walked out, gathered her things, said goodbye to a few people, and left to meet Jenkins.

Giving the Wizengamot their report had been anticlimactic; they'd walked into the chamber and handed the large, thick file over to the Chief Warlock. He'd glanced at it, nodded to them, and motioned for them to move along, as there were more people to be seen that afternoon.

* * *

**12 September  
**  
"Hermione, it's so good to see you." Narcissa kissed Hermione on each cheek then pulled back to beam at her. "It's been too long. Please, let's sit."

One of the house-elves had shown Hermione to Narcissa's favorite tea room, where the elegant witch had prepared a lavish tea service.

"It's good to see you as well." Hermione felt conspicuously underdressed, even though she'd worn one of her best dresses for the occasion. She knew Narcissa didn't care, but she still felt a little self-conscious.

Narcissa motioned toward the sitting area, then took a seat on the antique settee. Hermione assumed her place in an antique wingback chair. Narcissa immediately began serving tea. "Draco told me that you're no longer with the Ministry. I was sorry to hear it."

Hermione sighed. "He's correct, but I'm not sorry. Not really."

"I thought you loved your work."

"I loved the idea of it, the possibilities of what I could accomplish. But this year I came to see that it was merely an exercise in futility, that nothing would truly change because nobody wanted it to change." She stirred a cube of sugar slowly and deliberately, as if her tea was a very finicky potion that needed constant attention. "When this pixie situation popped up, I saw an opportunity to really help a group of creatures that the ministry repeatedly ignores at best, relegating them to mere decorations for holidays. I knew the law was on my side, so surely it was only a matter of bringing it to the attention of my superiors."

Narcissa tutted. "And naturally, that hasn't gone according to plan. I'm sure you never dreamed you'd be forced out of your position unless you agreed to stop the case."

Hermione was surprised by how much Narcissa knew. "Well, I'm not too sad about my job right now. I think it's still too fresh. Why would I want to work for a department, an agency, or any business really, that so callously and egregiously ignores laws they, themselves, made?" She shook her head. "That's not the kind of place I want to be."

"I admire your principles, Hermione." The slightest tinge of concern laced Narcissa's expression. "But what are you going to do now?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'll be spending more time with Jenkins getting ready for our hearing. I don't yet know when it will be, but I hope to hear soon. Beyond that... I haven't thought much of it." She chuckled wryly. "I'll have plenty of time to help with the next fundraiser, though."

Narcissa's eyes widened and she cleared her throat. "Oh, I'm not sure what's left to do. Draco has taken care of so much of it this time."

That stung; she missed being more involved with the events. "Another project of his?" She wondered if he'd tell her about it this time.

"Mm, yes, something like that." She sipped from her tea a little too casually.

"Keep your secrets then." Hermione tried to smile but couldn't quite force the expression she didn't feel.

Narcissa noticed. "What is it, dear?"

"Well, and please don't take this the wrong way, but... if you'd rather I not be involved anymore, please just tell me. Don't pretend while slowly taking away all my responsibilities. I'm not sure I can handle that."

Narcissa gasped, her hand flying to her mouth and her eyes widening. "Oh, Hermione! I'm so sorry you feel that way! My goodness, that's the last thing I want! It's... Oh, it's been a matter of timing, that's all. First Draco wanted to be in charge of July, and now he's got something else in his head, but truly, it isn't that I don't want you here anymore."

Hermione managed a small smile. "If you're sure."

"I'm absolutely sure." Narcissa's tone left no room for debate.

"All right." She felt slightly better, but the proof would be in how much they asked from her in the future.

"How are things going with Jenkins?" Narcissa asked after a long moment.

"Fine. I suspect I'll be doing more work with him soon. After all, I've got plenty of time on my hands now." She wrapped her hands around her cup, enjoying the warmth. Despite not being terribly upset about her job, she was still bitter that it happened the way it did.

Then she smiled at Narcissa. "Let's talk about something else, shall we? Has there been any word from Astoria's family?"

Narcissa arched an eyebrow. "It's interesting you would ask that. There hasn't been a single word from that quarter, and I'm honestly surprised. I had expected it to continue at least through the year."

"Maybe Astoria found someone else." Hermione hoped so, for her sort-of friend's sake.

"I've not heard anything, but it does make one wonder. And how about you, dear? Has anybody caught your fancy since Marcus?"

Hermione quickly looked away, knowing her cheeks were bound to blush. Thankfully she could answer Narcissa honestly yet still avoid the truth. "No, nobody has drawn my interest since Marcus. I'm beginning to think this year wasn't about romance, after all. I think it's about learning who I am. When I quieted my calendar, I had to learn to listen. And I discovered that, among other things, going through the ministry to really make changes isn't the best course of action. Not at this point in my life, anyway."

Narcissa sighed. "I find you to be wise beyond your years, Hermione. It took me a long time to admit to myself what was most important to me, and when everything was stripped away—my home, my honor, my security, and comfort—I found Lucius still there, by my side. How I miss him. And Draco was there, before me, becoming a man but struggling with who he should be. Lying for Harry was the easiest thing in the world, and I believe that's why I wasn't discovered. The Dark Lord, as you know, was famous for spotting lies, yet he didn't detect my deception." She shook her head. "It is good to know yourself at such a young age. You'll do great things, Hermione Granger."

* * *

**15 September**

Hermione glanced around the crowded café, looking for Draco. He'd sent her an owl and asked her to meet him on his lunch break, and they'd agreed to go somewhere close. But noon on a Friday was everyone's favorite time to go to lunch, and she was certain that, even if she found him, there was no hope of carrying on a conversation.

Despairing slightly as she spun, seeking that all-too-familiar white blond hair, she felt someone grab her elbow. Her first instinct was to jerk away, but she whipped her head around to glare at the person—only to discover Draco giving her a bemused smile.

"Oh, hi!" She suddenly felt breathless, like all the air had been sucked from her lungs.

"Hope you don't mind, but I took one look at this and placed an order from somewhere else. To go." He motioned toward the door with his head and started walking out.

Unspeakably relieved, Hermione followed. Once outside, where she could hear her own thoughts again, she noticed he was carrying a large basket. "What's that?"

"A picnic lunch sounded nice." His smile was endearing, and she had to pinch herself to keep from melting into a puddle. "I popped home and asked the elves to fix us up something. I've no idea what's in here, but there's a green space down the road a ways. Surely we can find a patch of grass to sit on?"

Hermione nodded, forcing herself to think of Suzanne. He was dating her, his neighbor, whom he'd already kissed at least once. She needed to remember that so that she didn't get carried away. At the same time, however, they _were_ friends, and she was perfectly at liberty to enjoy her time with him. Resolving to focus on that, rather than Suzanne, she smiled as they walked down Diagon Alley, through the Leaky Cauldron, and into Muggle London.

"I spoke to my mother." He gave her a significant look she didn't grasp.

"What about?"

"You. And the Foundation."

Hermione felt her stomach flip. "Oh, that was unnecessary."

When they reached the park, it was rather crowded, but Draco managed to find a spot that seemed tucked away from everyone else. He set the basket down and opened it to find a blanket on top. "Lovely." He spread it on the ground and sat down.

Hermione marveled at Draco, wearing what must have been very expensive trousers, sitting on the ground with only a thin layer of padding between him and the dirt. She shook her head and joined him, thankful she hadn't worn a dress.

"Don't worry, the blanket is, well, Impervious, if you catch my meaning." He started removing packages from the basket. "Looks like… sandwiches, crisps, some fruit and cheese, hot water for tea, and a few slices of cake. Oh, and even some wine."

"That all sounds incredible, Draco." She took a plate from him and began to help him open things up.

A fly landed on the edge of Draco's plate and he narrowed his eyes at it, glanced around, then cast a very discreet Charm to keep bugs away. "My mother showed me that one as soon as I was old enough to talk. I wasn't very fond of bugs when I was younger and we spent a great deal of time in the garden at the Manor. Very handy little spell."

Hermione grinned and popped a crisp in her mouth. Draco poured her a glass of wine, and she accepted it with a grateful smile. Wine at lunch was unusual, but it wasn't like she had to return to the Ministry, and the occasion seemed perfect for it.

Draco didn't seem in a hurry to broach why he'd requested Hermione join him for lunch, and they spent a leisurely meal discussing all manner of things: Draco's time back at work, how Hermione was passing her days, and other general topics of interest.

When they'd both eaten their fill, Draco stretched his legs out in front of him, setting his plate aside. "Now. To the business at hand. Mother said—"

"Draco, I never meant for you to hear about it." She felt so embarrassed.

"It's all right. It's an important conversation that we need to have, and now that we're speaking again, we can." He gave her a significant look, his expression serious. "I hate that you felt that we've been trying to subtly push you out. That's the last thing I'd want. I think what's been happening is that I've stepped up and taken a bigger role, and I have a tendency to want things my way—I don't know if you've noticed that—"

"Oh, no, you've been too subtle." She rolled her eyes playfully.

He grinned. "I got it into my head that I was in charge of the July event. I didn't tell anyone but my mother; I wouldn't have even told Tabitha's parents until mother reminded me that they probably wouldn't appreciate being in the spotlight like that with no warning. You handled much of the running of the event, even though you didn't know what it was about."

She sighed. "And normally, I _am_ involved in a lot of the planning. Though, once I realized what it was all about, I understood your reasons."

Draco sipped from his wine glass. "And now for this, I had another… inspiration, let's call it, and so I'm seeing it through. Once again, it's a bit of a secret, though it's not like last time. I can't apologize for this, however, as I'm resolute that nothing will alter my course. But," He peered at her intently, "I don't want you to think this is some new pattern emerging. Mother absolutely wants you to be just as involved as you've always been."

"Which I can't do when I'm not allowed. But Draco, listen. I only wanted to know if your mother wanted to stop working with me. She said she didn't, and… I have to trust that." She bit her lip. It was nearly impossible to fully trust, even though she didn't doubt Narcissa. But things couldn't possibly continue as they were, could they? Someday, Draco would marry, and then wouldn't his wife be automatically made part of the foundation efforts? She'd be a Malfoy, after all.

He chuckled. "My mother wants you to run the thing someday. But don't tell her I told you that."

"Me?" Hermione squeaked. "But, I'm… I'm not a Malfoy! I couldn't possibly be in charge of it."

"She's got her heart set on it." He shrugged and said no more for a while, instead swirling his glass and watching the crowd around them.

Hermione joined him in people watching, her eyes drifting repeatedly to a couple not too far away who were on a bench, both reading books, holding hands between them and letting go only when one of them needed to turn a page. Occasionally one of them would say something to the other, who may or may not reply. Neither seemed to mind either way.

"I hear you've sorted things out." The words were out of her mouth before she'd cleared them for takeoff, a result of her wandering thoughts while watching the couple.

"What things?" He finished his wine and peered at the glass. "Should I have another?"

"Aren't you working today?"

Draco sighed. "You're right. I'll pass. Now, what things?"

She hesitated a long moment, trying to decide if she could—or should—back out of this line of conversation. But she decided they were friends, after all, and friends talked about who they were seeing. "With Suzanne?"

He remained very still, his eyes boring a hole in the side of the picnic basket. "Suzanne?"

"Harry mentioned something about it." If nothing else, she'd get Harry in trouble with him, which might be amusing.

"Did he." It wasn't quite a question, and she could tell his jaw was clenched tight. He cleared his throat and his voice was low when he spoke. "Why do you want to know?"

"Oh, you know. We're friends, right?" She waved her hand, trying to downplay the whole thing. "I haven't properly spoken to you in a long while, and it seems like an important development."

He gave her a strange look. "We don't talk about things like this, though." She started to protest that yes, they certainly did, please refer to all the conversations about speed dating earlier in the year, but he held up a hand. "You didn't tell me about Marcus."

She felt his easy observation like a punch in the gut. Her cheeks went bright red and she had to look down so he wouldn't see if he glanced her way; he hadn't been looking at her when he said it.

"That's... true. So, I suppose we aren't the type of friends who talk about who we're dating?"

He gave a light sigh. "No." Then he turned to her with a strained smile. "But we are friends."

Hermione felt an odd combination of despair and mortification. If they weren't close enough to talk about their relationships, how close could they truly be? But she couldn't let him know his words had affected her, so she plastered on a smile. "I'm glad about that."

"Me too. I—"

Draco jumped slightly, then fished something out of his pocket.

"What is it?" She tried to see what he was holding but it was too small, and Draco quickly returned it to his pocket.

"Potter. I need to go." He checked his watch and his eyes went wide. "I'm missing an important meeting. How have we been here almost two hours?" Draco jumped to his feet and gave her an apologetic look, glancing frantically around at the spread of dishes, food packages, and the bottle of wine. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." Hermione smiled and got up. "I'll pack up and give you everything next time I see you."

"I appreciate that." He started to walk away. "I'll see you—oh." He stopped abruptly and pivoted back to her. "Speaking of the next time I'll see you, Potter is trying to put something together for your birthday."

Hermione groaned. "What? Why?"

Draco chuckled. "I don't know, I suppose he didn't learn from last year. I don't know many details, but… act surprised."

"Thank you for the advance warning. You could probably bring Suzanne."

He looked at her incredulously and shook his head. "See you, Hermione." He hurried away, darting for the closest alleyway to Disapparate.

Hermione watched him go, a wistful sigh escaping her lips. It had been an incredible two hours, marred only by her ill-advised inquiry about Suzanne. As Hermione packed up the picnic basket, she tried to focus on the good time she'd had with him, but part of her ached for more. At least now she knew she'd see him on her birthday, which would have to be enough.

For now.

* * *

**19 September**

Hermione wasn't sure what to expect on her birthday, but she got some relief in the form of a note from Harry around lunchtime.

_Hermione,_

_Don't make dinner plans. Come to my place at seven. Dress warmly._

_Harry  
_

At five minutes before seven, she wrapped a cloak around her shoulders and Apparated to the Potter residence. She didn't even have to knock; Ginny threw open the door just as Hermione raised her hand as though she'd been watching through the peephole.

"Happy Birthday!" Ginny flung her arms around Hermione's neck and pulled her in for a quick, fierce hug. "Come in! We're almost ready to go." She took Hermione's hand and yanked her into the house.

"Go? Why are we going somewhere?" Hermione saw Molly come down the hallway.

"Oh, hello dear!" Molly waved with a crinkly smile. "Have a good evening!" Then she disappeared into one of the bedrooms.

"Mum's keeping James. Eloise has to come with us, but she just sleeps most of the time." Ginny patted the bundle she had wrapped around her chest. "Harry!"

His muffled reply came down the hall. "Coming!" Two minutes later, Harry emerged. Hermione was glad to see that he and Ginny were wearing dressy-casual clothes. He beamed when he saw her. "Happy birthday, Hermione!" He gave her a quick once over. "Perfect. The Portkey leaves in two minutes." He pulled out an old cassette tape and held it out. "Nervous?"

Hermione huffed but pinched a corner of the tape. "You know I don't love surprises, Harry."

"Yeah, but this is a good one. Not like last time."

Ginny snorted and Hermione rolled her eyes.

In a moment, they were pulled through space and deposited with a solid thud in an alleyway. Hermione's senses were assaulted by sounds—people, lots of people—and smells—fish and trash. She scrunched up her nose.

Harry didn't seem bothered by the strange smells. "Brilliant, let's go."

Hermione hurried after a very determined Harry and Ginny, emerging from the alley onto a riverside street. It was a very busy street, and Harry headed for a corner with a light so that they could cross without worry. Hermione recognized that they were near a part of the Thames she didn't recognize, and she wondered what on earth they were doing in Muggle London. Her excitement was growing by the second, despite her better judgment, and she listened with fondness to Harry and Ginny softly talking about directions, the best routes, and how they'd left things so very close and it would be leaving soon.

When they crossed the street, Harry turned right, then led them back down the pavement a ways until they came to a stairway that descended to the water. Hermione saw a few boats tied up along the edge of the water but thought nothing of it until they slowed down beside one. Harry stopped then and turned to her, eyes shining and practically bouncing with excited energy.

"We're here." He indicated the boat, and Hermione gasped.

The boat was about thirty feet long, and the interior part, where any passengers might sit, had glass walls. She couldn't quite see it thanks to the glare from the sun, which was just about to dip below the horizon.

"What? We're where?"

"Your birthday celebration. Come on!" He led them across a plank and onto the boat. Someone was waiting there and Harry spoke a few hushed words with him, then motioned for them to follow. Once she and Ginny were securely on the boat, the man began preparing for departure.

"Harry, what—"

"Almost… there!" He led them to the front of the boat, then down a short set of stairs and through an open doorway.

When Hermione got through, she saw a small group of her closest friends gathered.

"Surprise!"

Hermione couldn't stop smiling. "What is this? What's going on?"

Pansy was by her side in an instant, looping her arm through Hermione's. "It's a dinner cruise! Isn't it a delicious idea? I can't believe Potter came up with it on his own. Oh, and happy birthday."

Ron was there, of course, plus Luna, George, and Draco. Hermione briefly registered the fact that everyone there was a couple, except for her and Draco, but she didn't have time to dwell on it as the other guests came to bid her a happy birthday. Ron gave her a big hug, Luna greeted her airily and kindly, and George gave her a boisterous hug and a single flower. Draco merely waved from his place near the dining table.

Ginny grabbed Hermione's other arm and pointed to a set of stairs. "We can go up on the roof! And once we start moving, they'll serve dinner. I'm so excited, this is going to be so much fun!"

Hermione shook her head in pure disbelief. "Harry did all this?"

Ginny shrugged. "He may have had some help. But it was his idea to do something. I think, you know, because it's been kind of a hard year for you, what with everything at the Ministry. He just wanted you to have a nice, relaxing, interesting night for your birthday."

"I can't wait, Ginny. This is truly amazing! He's outdone himself." Hermione beamed around at everyone, thrilled to have her friends all to herself for a few hours.

"Attention, ladies and gentlemen. We'll be embarking shortly. Please be prepared for movement. For your safety, there are life jackets stowed in all the bench seats along the edge of the dining area. Thank you for choosing us for your dining destination tonight, and don't forget to leave us a positive review on your website of choice. The captain also wants to wish a hearty happy birthday to one Hermione Granger." A line from the 'happy birthday' song played over the speaker, and everyone laughed. "Should you need anything, don't hesitate to come up to the captain's quarters, and once again, thank you for dining with us tonight."

The boat began to move almost as soon as the intercom went off. "Come on!" Ginny pulled her back out of the dining room and onto the deck of the boat. The others followed, and they stood around making small talk while the boat began its journey.

Behind them, Hermione could hear the clink of dishes and flatware, and she turned around to see what looked like a wait staff preparing the table.

Harry came over to her, a slightly apprehensive look on his face. "Well? What do you think? It wasn't too much, right?"

Hermione threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. "It's perfect, Harry. Really." She released him, feeling tears prick her eyes. "I can't imagine anything I'd enjoy more than this."

Harry quickly glanced at something over her shoulder, then looked back to her. "Well, it wasn't _all_ my idea."

"That's okay. I don't need to know the details now. I just want to enjoy this moment." She beamed at him. "I do want to know all about this journey we're going to take. Where are we going?"

Harry chuckled. "We'll head generally east toward the North Sea. I'm not sure how far out we'll get, but then we'll turn around and come back here. I think it's supposed to be a three-hour trip."

"Thank you." Hermione squeezed his hand.

He squirmed, looking slightly uncomfortable. "It wasn't just me, you know. I don't want you to think that. My idea was a table at the Leaky." He shrugged.

"Oh! Then whose idea was it?"

Harry gave her a very hard look. "Think about it."

Hermione blinked, then realization struck, and she felt her cheeks go pink. "Oh. Draco?"

"Mm. He insisted you wouldn't exactly be thrilled with a noisy pub." Harry smiled. "I guess he was right."

"He was. I'll have to thank him."

The sound of someone tapping a champagne glass with a fork drew their attention, and they saw one of the wait staff standing in the doorway to the dining room. "Dinner is served."

"After you." Harry motioned for her to go before him, and the rest of her friends filed in behind her. Hermione took the seat at one end of the table. Ron sat to her left, then Pansy, then Draco. Harry was at the other end of the table, with Ginny on his other side, followed by George and Luna on Hermione's right. She silently pouted over the fact that Draco was so far away, but resolved not to let it dampen another moment of her evening.

Dinner was presented family style, with a number of dishes set out on the table. Hermione realized they probably had a very limited menu, considering they were on a boat.

When nobody made a move right away to start, Ron cleared his throat. "Well, let's not be shy. Happy birthday, Hermione, and let's tuck in!"

She nodded her approval and reached for the dish nearest her. Soon they were all filling their plates and passing dishes, and it reminded her of meals at Hogwarts. She felt a little teary-eyed when she thought about the fact that sitting with her and her former housemates were two Slytherins and a Ravenclaw. It was so nice to see that they'd risen above their childhoods—especially evinced in their relationships with the Slytherins. It gave her hope that, with enough time and true listening, anything was possible.

The meal was pleasant, though it passed swiftly. After about half an hour, another announcement was made that drinks and dessert would be provided on the rooftop deck. Hermione had already finished a full glass of wine and was feeling delightfully tipsy. It was just enough to make everything in the world seem lovely, but not enough that she was at the risk of throwing herself at the nearest single wizard—who happened to be Draco.

Draco, who was currently dating Suzanne, his pretty Irish neighbor.

No, best not to drink _too_ much. She couldn't risk what might come out of her mouth under the right circumstances—such as a moment alone on the roof deck. That was decidedly _not_ a good idea.

After so much talking, laughing, and general merriment during dinner, they weren't in a huge hurry to go upstairs. The boat was big enough that the couples could find themselves a quiet corner, if they wanted, and Hermione noticed one pair at a time sneak away at different points over the course of the evening.

She sighed wistfully, wishing she had someone to sneak off with—or better yet, go home with. But it wasn't to be this year, and she was determined to have the night of her life regardless.

When they reached the farthest point of the trip, just at the mouth of the Thames as it flowed into the North Sea, everyone crowded on the roof to get a good look at the stars. They were all quiet, for the most part, though she could hear the occasional whisper.

"You don't see stars like this very often," Pansy whispered, leaning over.

"They're beautiful. Reminds me of the stars at Hogwarts."

Ron called his fiancé, and Pansy left Hermione alone on a bench facing the bow. She was content, perfectly so. Yes, her heart yearned for her friend, but she didn't need him to be at peace. Hermione closed her eyes and focused on simply existing in the moment, allowing all of her other senses to come alive. She was very content in that moment to be alone with her thoughts, to feel the sea breeze on her face, to see the brilliant stars shining above. She could hear the waves lapping at the side of the boat, whose engine had been cut to allow them a peaceful pause. As the sounds began to register and she discerned between each one, she realized that all of the hushed conversation she heard was happening below her.

Hermione opened her eyes and glanced around, expecting to find the roof deck empty. Her stomach flopped outrageously when her gaze landed on Draco, leaning against the railing on the port side of the boat, a bottle of something in his hand. He wasn't looking at her, his own gaze directed out over the water, but he must have sensed her looking because he turned to her. When their eyes met, she felt a pleasant burst of nerves in her gut, and before she'd even decided to move, she was making her way toward him.

Draco turned away and sipped from his drink, shifting his posture slightly but not moving. She stopped just beside him and leaned on the rail, their arms mere inches apart.

"Happy birthday, Granger." He raised his bottle, and she could see that his eyes were a bit glazed over. He never called her Granger anymore, and she started in surprise.

"Thank you, _Malfoy_." She giggled, not at all immune to the alcohol she'd consumed. Then she nudged him with her shoulder. "What are you doing up here all alone?"

His reply was slow to come and slow to express. "Thinking. Mostly."

"What are you drinking?"

"Some kind of beer. I think." He frowned at the liquid as though hoping it would tell him what it was. "I've had too many, I'm afraid."

"Ah." She looked back out over the water. "I made a point not to do that. I wanted to remember every moment of tonight."

He frowned. "Hm." Then he tipped another long draw of his drink into his mouth, cringing slightly as he swallowed. "I think I'll need another soon."

Hermione put her hand on his arm as he turned to go, and he spun around quickly, his eyes ablaze though still slightly dull. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

He swallowed hard, never taking his eyes off hers. "It's probably a bloody awful one, to be honest. But I'm doing it anyway."

"You've got to work tomorrow." She cringed slightly at the nagging tone to her words. In truth, she didn't want him to leave because she was almost certain he wouldn't return.

"Fair point. But that's what Sober-Up Potion is for." He winked and made no move to go.

Normally, silence was easy between them, but she felt something brewing, something that put her slightly on edge. And whenever she felt really off-kilter, she had a tendency to blurt things out that, if she took the time to think about, she wouldn't say. That feeling welled up in her and she panicked.

"Why didn't you bring Suzanne?" She knew immediately it had been a terrible thing to say, and she wanted to jump into the water.

Draco fully turned, leaning back on his far elbow so that he could give her a 'where did that come from?' look. Then he shook his head and looked down at his bottle, finally tilting it back for another drink. "Why would I bring her?"

Hermione shrugged. "Everyone else here is with someone."

"You aren't." His voice was barely a whisper, and he was gazing intently into the bottle.

"That's true. And… I'm okay with that." She placed her hands together on the rail and stuck her elbows out slightly.

"You are?" He peered up at her through his fringe, a skeptical look in his eye.

She nodded emphatically. "I am. I'm rather enjoying my time with friends, not thinking about anything but making the most of the night with my favorite people. I'm perfectly happy exactly where I am, and my life isn't missing something just because I don't have a date for my birthday." She laughed lightly, feeling her heart tug despite her words. She meant them, but if she could have her way, she'd be with the man beside her, his arm around her rather than leaning on the rail. A chill breeze blew just then and she shivered, though she knew it wasn't just the wind. The thought of Draco touching her, in any way, was enough to make her go weak in the knees.

He was so quiet that she felt oddly compelled to keep talking. It was probably the wine. "At the beginning of the year, I thought my goal would be to 'find love.' How stupid is that? It's not like I lost it. After trying really hard at the beginning of the year, when I finally released all of that, I met Marcus." She shrugged, not anxious to dwell on _him_. "That didn't work out, of course, but then I found myself in the middle of this whole pixie mess… and I watched you do amazing things, all on your own, and you seem so content with your life, just as things are. It makes me want that, too."

His gaze snapped up faster than she'd thought possible considering how far past tipsy he was. His eyes were wide with confusion and disbelief, but she refused to try and decipher their meaning.

"And look, you found Suzanne without even trying! She was just there, and things have fallen into place, and isn't that what love is supposed to be?" As she threw up her hands, she felt the engine start up.

"Hey, Hermione!"

She spun around and saw Luna's head poking up from the staircase.

Luna waved wildly. "It's time for cake!"

"All right!" Hermione pushed herself off the railing and watched Luna disappear again before she turned to Draco. "There's cake apparently."

He gave her a half smile. "You go on. I'll follow in a few minutes."

Hermione nodded and started to walk away. Then a thought occurred to her and she returned to the railing, this time leaning one elbow on it and facing Draco. "Tonight—this dinner cruise—has been absolutely perfect, Draco. I know you had a hand in it. Harry wouldn't have come up with this all on his own."

Draco grimaced slightly and rubbed the back of his neck. "I couldn't let a repeat of last year happen. He wanted to rent a room at the Leaky. I pointed out that, judging on how last year went, perhaps that wasn't your speed for something like this. I just made a few suggestions."

Without thinking, she reached over and squeezed his hand. "Thank you. This is… exactly right."

He stared down at her hand as though confused, and she hastily withdrew. "I'm going down for cake now."

When she was halfway to the stairs, he called her name.

She paused and spun around to face him. He tapped the railing with his empty bottle a few times, eyeing her as though trying to come to a decision about something. He finally sighed.

"Happy birthday, Hermione. I hope this year brings you everything you want."

"Thank you, Draco. I'm glad you came." She didn't wait for his response.

* * *

**Monday, 25 SEPTEMBER**

Hermione was practically bouncing when she reached the restaurant—the same one they'd eaten at when Ginny had been very pregnant. It had been a few months since she'd been out to dinner with Pansy and Ginny, and she couldn't wait. Yes, they'd all been together for her birthday the week before, but this would be different—girls only. Before Eloise was born, which slightly interrupted things, the outings with Ginny and Pansy had been some of the highlights of Hermione's days.

Pansy and Ginny were already inside, chatting nonstop as though they hadn't just seen each other. When Hermione joined them, they were quickly shown to a table. Once they were settled and had ordered their food, the real talk began.

"How did you enjoy your birthday cruise, Hermione?" Pansy took a breadstick and broke it in half.

"It was absolutely perfect. I can't think of any way it could have been improved."

Pansy and Ginny exchanged a look, and Pansy gave Hermione a knowing smirk. "Oh? What about the fact that you and Draco were both there… solo?"

"What of it?" She tried to be nonchalant. Only Ginny knew the truth, and Ginny was bound by a spell not to repeat what Hermione had told her. "He's dating his neighbor, Pansy."

The smirk dropped off the witch's face and her mouth fell open. "You're lying. I thought you said they'd just kissed. A kiss doesn't have to _mean_ anything."

Hermione shook her head. "No, it's true. Harry told me they were going out on a date, and when I asked Draco about it, he didn't deny it."

Ginny gasped. "But how? It's not been in the papers. And you know the papers follow him around like sad, lost puppies hoping for crumbs."

Pansy was making a face that looked very much like she'd smelled something nasty. "Her? Really? I think she was plain at best. I wouldn't imagine it's serious or anything. He didn't bring her to your birthday dinner, Hermione."

Ginny looked furtively at Hermione, who was doing her best to keep her expression neutral. Hermione shrugged and dabbed her lips with her napkin. "I told him to invite her when he let slip that Harry was planning something. I don't know why he didn't."

"I think he's being an idiot." Pansy tutted and shook her head.

Ginny snorted. "Why's that?"

"Because! Hermione, obviously."

Ginny glanced at Hermione. "What about Hermione?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "I've said it before. I think they'd be good together. I think he fancied her, and I don't think it would take much to get him interested again. If he isn't _still_ interested." She huffed. "Although he won't tell me anything. I'm pants at Legilimency, but don't think I didn't try anyway. Bloody Occlumens that he's become."

Hermione remained calm. "Pansy, if he did have any feelings for me, they're long gone. I'm telling you, we'll always just be friends."

Pansy peered at her with an air of superiority. "You can deny it all you want, Hermione. It's the sensible thing to do right now, I'll admit. But you can't fool me. There's something between you two. I happen to know that Draco practically orchestrated the whole event. The dinner cruise was _his_ idea. He found the boat, planned the menu, even negotiated a reduced fare so that everyone could attend. I was just being nice by giving Harry the credit."

"He had a funny way of showing he cared," Ginny quipped. "He was broody all night, barely spoke five words to anybody that I saw."

"He didn't seem broody to me." Hermione tried to remember. "More quiet than usual, but maybe he was just tired."

"I've known Draco a long time." Pansy clucked her tongue. "He was broody."

"Enough about Malfoy. What about a job?" Ginny looked at Hermione pointedly. "I know you've got some savings, but shouldn't you be finding something else?"

Hermione sighed and picked at her salad. "I know I need to, but it's so hard to concentrate on anything right now. Once this business with the pixie forest and the Wizengamot is all over, I'll be able to think about my future. For now, I feel like all I can do is wait. And drive myself mad with nothing to do. My flat is very clean, though."

Pansy snorted. "Then I'm recruiting you to help me with wedding plans. There are simply too many decisions, and my mother has too many opinions. I need someone in my corner who doesn't want to turn every portion of the wedding into a circus."

"I'd be happy to help, Pansy."

Ginny beamed at both of them. "See? You're already started on your path to solving the world's problems—starting with my future sister-in-law."

"I can't decide what colors to go with. I know we talked about it weeks ago, but I'm stuck on it. I really wanted this specific flower that is apparently hard to get." She rolled her eyes. "As if I don't have enough money to have them imported from anywhere in the world."

"What colors are you thinking?" Ginny asked.

Pansy's eyes glittered with excitement. "The wedding is in December, as you know, so there's a natural draw toward colors that match either Christmas or winter. Red, green, gold, silver. But, considering our Hogwarts house colors are red and green, I want to stay away from a scheme that features either of those heavily. I'm thinking of silver and gold, together with white."

"Ooh, that sounds really pretty!" Ginny looked as though she were trying to picture it in her mind. "And either of those colors will look lovely on everyone."

Hermione nodded. "I agree with Ginny, it sounds beautiful. What color dresses would we be wearing?"

Pansy shrugged and sipped from her drink. "I'll probably wait and see what dress I like best. You two will have to come and help me decide."

Hermione stifled a groan. The idea of helping Pansy choose another dress wasn't terribly appealing. She decided to change the subject. "How's Eloise?"

Ginny automatically put a hand to the top of her breast and pressed lightly. "Fine. I've got about forty-five minutes before she'll want to eat again. I could have brought her and stayed longer, but honestly, I really needed the time away. I adore her, don't get me wrong, but Harry's great with her, and there's a bottle of milk if she needs one before I get back." Ginny glanced around the room. "Let's just hope there are no babies in here who start crying or I'll have a problem."

Both Hermione and Pansy stared at her. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"I'll leak. You know, milk." She flapped a hand at them dismissively. "Never mind. What about your presentation? When is that again?"

"It's the twenty-ninth. Friday." She groaned. "I've been working on it in my copious spare time, getting together with Jenkins to make sure it's perfect. He's wonderful, and I can see myself working with him again in the future, but he's rather jaded. He seems cautiously hopeful at best, but most of the time he seems patiently resigned. He's perfectly willing to do this with me, but it's more for the challenge or… something to do, rather than something he believes in or is passionate about." Hermione took a sip of water. "Don't get me wrong, he thinks I'm right, but I feel like he'd be this way about anything."

Ginny frowned. "I'm sorry. I'm sure that's frustrating."

Hermione shrugged, her shoulder sagging slightly. "I'm trying to make the best arguments I can, but I feel like I'm running in circles. I've said everything already, I've gathered all the evidence, yet I still keep trying and searching. It's a bit exhausting."

Pansy patted her arm. "There, there. You'll be all right. And we'll go out after and have a big celebration for your win."

"I wouldn't count on it." She forced a smile. "But we'll see, won't we?"

* * *

**Friday, 29 SEPTEMBER**

Hermione was shaking she was so angry. It took all of her powers of self-control to walk calmly down the hall to the lift. Jenkins said something to her with a light chuckle that made her want to punch his uninterested, boring nose. They'd just finished presenting to the Wizengamot. Hermione had spoken for over an hour, used charts and maps and everything available to her to present the information in a variety of ways, and they'd been told that the members would need time to deliberate before reaching a decision.

Jenkins had merely thanked them and ushered Hermione from the room, and now he had the nerve to make a joke?

"Excuse me, Mr. Jenkins, but I'm going to need a little bit of time."

He seemed taken aback but nodded quickly. "Of course, Miss Granger. Would you like to discuss how that went over lunch?"

"No." Her teeth were gritted, and when the lift arrived, she stalked into it and jabbed her finger at the button for the atrium. Then she thought better of it and decided to stop in and see Harry. She needed to let off some steam, and he was always up for a good rant.

Jenkins sighed. "Hermione, I know it might seem that I'm being insensitive, but I've simply seen this more times than I care to count. It's a power play, and you're letting them get to you."

"Yes. Yes, I am. Why couldn't they have deliberated now? Why didn't they already have an answer, considering we gave them a full and very thorough report when we first approached them!" She forced herself to take a few deep breaths as the lift rattled toward Harry's floor.

"As I said, they're attempting to rattle you. I don't think anyone noticed that they'd succeeded, but try not to let it upset you too much." He patted her awkwardly on the back as the lift dinged to a stop. "I'll be in touch as soon as I hear something."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you. I'm sorry. I'm not at all used to this." She hurried down the hall, stopped outside the DMLE, and took a few more deep, steadying breaths. It wouldn't do to storm through the Auror Department in a huff. When she felt ready, Hermione calmly opened the door.

The entire office was abuzz, which wasn't unusual. A few people waved and said hello as she made her way through the maze of desks and offices on her way to Harry's. When she reached it, however, she was dismayed to find Harry wasn't there—nor Draco, either. Tears threatened and she stubbornly refused to let them fall. No matter, she'd find some other way to vent her frustrations. Perhaps Narcissa would be available for tea. As soon as she decided to pop over to the Manor, she spun on her heel and came face to face with Draco, returning to his desk with a stack of reports and a fresh cup of tea.

His eyes were wide with surprise. "Hi! Um, what are you doing here?"

"Where's Harry?" She bit her lip, knowing she was only seconds from spilling angry tears and not wanting to do that here in front of him.

His expression darkened slightly before clearing, so quickly she wasn't sure it had been real. "He's having lunch with Ginny. Seems like he can't handle eating alone on Fridays since you left." Draco smirked. "He tried roping me into something, but I refuse to eat more cafeteria food than I have to."

Despite her desperate desire to run, she cracked a small smile. "Okay. Thanks. I… I'll go."

"Everything okay?" His brow was furrowed in concern, then his eyes widened. "Oh, is your presentation over?"

All she could do was nod, clamping her mouth shut so she wouldn't fall apart right there.

Draco deposited his things on his desk, glancing around. His eyes finally landed on something across the room, and he returned to her, placing his hand on her elbow so he could steer her somewhere quiet. Hermione didn't try to fight; she spent the short trip trying to pull herself together. The last thing she wanted to do was ugly cry in front of the man she was in love with—especially since he most assuredly did not return the sentiment or anything even approaching it.

He led her into a little room, much like the one Harry had taken her to a few months before, only this one was smaller and clearly used for interrogation purposes. There was a single metal table and two chairs, one on either side. But as soon as the door was shut, Draco waved his wand, and the room was transformed. He hung a curtain across the large window, Transfigured the stiff, uncomfortable chairs into puffy armchairs, and the table became a soft, plush rug. He'd even thought to provide a couple of throw blankets, and Hermione sank into one of the chairs and immediately snuggled up with one.

Draco sat rigidly in the other chair, his hands clasped before him but not looking at her. Hermione suspected he was trying to respect her space and wait, not staring at her until she spoke. She felt an extreme rush of gratitude toward him, and some of her anger even dissolved.

"Thank you, Draco." Her eyes were still watery, but she felt more at peace, and she smiled at him.

His gaze darted up to meet hers, and he visibly relaxed. "Is there anything you need, Hermione?"

"No. This… this is perfect. Really."

"Tea?" He held out his cup.

She laughed lightly. "No, I can't take your tea. But thank you. I won't be here long. I already feel loads better."

He looked surprised. "You do?"

Hermione sat up and nodded. "I was angry at the way I felt dismissed by the Wizengamot. They said they needed to deliberate before giving us an answer. I thought they should have already come to a decision."

"I see. When will you know?"

"I'm not sure. Jenkins didn't seem concerned, and he told me it was normal for them to drag things out." She looked at her hands, clasped awkwardly in her lap. "I'm sure he's right that I still have a lot to learn. But, as I said, I'm feeling loads better."

Draco's gaze was intense as he looked at her. "Do you want to get lunch? I don't have time for much, but I'd brave the cafeteria if you wanted."

Hermione laughed, her heart clenching at his offer. "As lovely as that sounds, I think I should go." Though she really didn't want to. She wanted to stay and talk to him and spend every possible second with him.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Have you somewhere else you need to be? You've got to eat, haven't you?"

Hermione quirked her mouth to one side in a struggle to keep from smiling. "It's not nice to point out that I'm currently unemployed, you know."

"I said nothing of the sort." He gave her a playful smirk. "I just happen to know that, for today, your planner has a pretty open space starting… well, now."

She wished she had something soft to throw at him. "Fine. You're buying then, since I've got no income and you're richer than the Queen."

"I think I can manage the Ministry cafeteria." Draco grinned and stood. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about your morning?"

Hermione threw off the blanket and hopped up. "I'm certain. Sorry you fixed up this room for nothing."

"It wasn't nothing." He set about returning to the room to its cold, utilitarian state. "And I really don't have a lot of time, but I think we can manage a conversation."

"That sounds nice." She beamed at him and they left the DLME together, her heart racing. She felt like a silly girl with a crush on a boy. With a heavy sigh, despite her smiles, she couldn't forget that he was dating someone. And no matter how much fun she had with him, no matter how kind and sweet he was, his heart was turned toward someone else.

* * *

**Saturday, 30 SEPTEMBER**

"Miss Granger, Mr. Jenkins, thank you for appearing at such a late hour. We apologize for the last-minute delay that pushed this presentation to today."

Hermione glanced at Jenkins, knowing he'd guessed that the Wizengamot would try to discourage them from showing up by scheduling the hearing for well after business hours on a weekend.

"We have read through the entire report and have discussed the matter at length. You are granted three minutes to present your argument. Your time begins now."

Jenkins stood and bowed slightly. "Esteemed members of the Wizengamot. I won't bore you with platitudes; I've not got enough time. The matter is a very simple one, and Miss Granger, formerly of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, identified the problem and made every effort to speak to the parties involved in order to discuss the matter. On no occasion was anyone willing to truly listen to what she had to say. Her former department is looking the other way while the Ministry plans to break a hundred-year-old treaty with the pixies in order to sell their home forest to the Quidditch League for the purpose of building a new stadium. You've read the report; your job this evening is simple. In order to fulfill your word, to make it known that the Ministry of Magic can be trusted, you must rule against the sale going through and intervene to protect the pixies. Thank you."

Hermione's heart was pounding but she didn't take her eyes off the Chief Warlock. He frowned and appeared to study the report. Other members whispered to each other, and she was hit with the sudden realization that the ruling wouldn't go her way.

She almost laughed; Jenkins had told her to prepare, and she thought she had. She'd even been willing to walk away from her job—which, to be fair, hadn't been difficult at all. But still—through it all—she'd never quite doubted that her case would prevail.

So, when the Chief Warlock pronounced the Wizengamot ruling against her, she wasn't surprised. She didn't even react, merely nodded once and thanked them for their time.

Everything she did seemed like a dream: she thanked Jenkins, floated out of the Ministry, and somehow ended up at Harry's house. He was sympathetic and invited her out for a drink.

The first three drinks didn't seem to touch her because she was in a very weird mental space. By the time she felt the alcohol hit, it was barely a bump to pass from numb, emptiness to completely sloshed.

"I don't think it's fair, though. You worked so hard and did so much, how could they completely ignore all your hard work?"

"I don't know, Harry. I think the worst part of it is I don't know what I'm doing with myself now. I thought, after this…" She scrunched up her nose, trying hard to force her brain to think. "Oh, I don't know what I thought would happen next! It's not like they'd offer me my old job back. How could I have let this happen? I don't have a plan! Harry, I always have a plan! My plans have plans—my back-up plans have back-up plans!"

She groaned and let her head drop onto the table, barely feeling the thump. "I really didn't think I would fail. That's all there is to it. I mean, Draco didn't fail. He got what he wanted, and if _he_ can, then certainly it would work out even better for _me_ , right?"

Harry frowned. "What do you mean, if he can?"

"Well, I only mean, with his record." She nearly knocked Harry's tankard over with her wild gesticulating. "He's not got the cleanest history, you know. I mean, I'm Hermione Granger! I haven't asked the Ministry for much, but I helped you save the whole wizarding world! You'd think maybe they'd give me this!" Then she scowled and pressed her fists against her head. "Oh, what am I saying!? This is exactly what I wanted to avoid, using my name to get what I want, even if I want good things! It's what I accused Draco of trying to do for me! Oh, Harry, I'm a terrible person. I should go apologize."

She stood up, but Harry was quick and grabbed her arm before she tried to leave. "Hey, not like this."

"Aw, Harry. You know I'm really, really good at Disapparating. I just… I need to tell him. And… ask him…" She frowned. "What did I want to ask him again?"

"Nothing tonight!" Harry said with an exaggerated smile. "Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow. Come on, let's get you home."

Hermione nodded vigorously and allowed Harry to walk her to her flat which was, thankfully, in Diagon Alley. Harry even walked her _into_ her flat and made sure she was safely within the walls of her home. Hermione threw her arms around him as he turned to go. "Thank you, Harry. You're a good friend."

He patted her patiently on the back a few times, then pulled her arms off him. "Yes, I know. Good night, Hermione."

"Night, Harry." She grinned as he walked to the door and waved to her, then she flopped down on the sofa. Her thoughts were a jumble, and for the next few minutes, she let them swim around in her brain, not concerned with any of them. But then one thought jumped out at her, and she remembered she'd wanted to speak to Draco.

Now would be a great time. He was sure to be home. Yes. She'd go and speak to him. About what had happened, and how he had won and she'd thought she would, too.

She rose and without stopping to think about what might happen, and without giving a thought to the consequences of Apparating while completely wasted, she did it.

As soon as she landed, she was sick. The twisting, the pulling, the generally unpleasant experience of Apparating turned her stomach inside out. But it was quick and she Vanished the mess, then looked around at where she was. Oh, yes. She'd gone to Malfoy Manor. She found herself outside the front door and stared at it a moment, trying to recall why she was there. Then everything flooded back—only not just the epiphany she'd had with Harry.

 _Everything_.

The loss hit her hard, and she groaned, not sure if she should knock or just go home. Finally, she leaned forward, distressed about not being able to think clearly enough to make a decision. Her head thudded against the door, and after a long moment, during which she felt stuck to the wood, it opened and she nearly fell down.

Strong arms caught her as a familiar scent flooded her senses. She looked up into Draco's face and grinned.

"Hi."

He arched an eyebrow. "Hello, Hermione."

She continued gazing into his pale, gray eyes, her focus going in and out as they stood, half in and half out of the house.

After what felt like hours, Draco cleared his throat. "Um, Hermione?"

"How come you opened the door?"

He gave her a patient look, as though not quite believing that she was asking. "After a certain hour, the house-elf isn't supposed to answer the door. Instead they are instructed to alert my mother. Since she's asleep and I'm here, they came to me instead. It's nearly midnight, you know."

"Is it?" The last time she'd looked at a clock it had read nine-fifteen. Though, now that she thought about it, that seemed a very long time—and many drinks—ago.

"Was there something you needed?" He had a bemused expression on his face.

Was there? She frowned a little as she tried to remember why she was there. Then a stray thought hit her and she pushed herself out of his arms, trying to stand. The room spun around her though, and Draco took her arm. Hermione took two clumsy steps into the grand foyer, then spun on her heel. That was a mistake, for she was nearly sick all over the expensive floor.

That feeling brought back to the forefront of her mind why she had decided to risk Apparating to his house after having too much to drink.

"You." She pointed her finger accusingly at him, then frowned when it looked like there were two of him. She pointed from one to the other, finally settling on the space between them. "How come you won?"

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Why did you get what you wanted and I didn't?" She scowled, stepping closer to him. "What makes you so special?"

"Erm... I'm not sure what you're referring to."

Rather than elaborate—she didn't think she could just then—she stalked closer and jabbed his chest. "Is it because you're a man?"

"I—"

"Or because you're rich?" She scrunched her nose as though she smelled something unpleasant.

Draco closed the door and sighed. "Let's get you a Sober-Up Potion, shall we? Then you can tell me what this is all about." He gently but firmly supported her and led her through the house.

Hermione kept repeating her questions, out loud or in her head, she couldn't be sure. After what felt like an eternal trek, she found herself in the library. Draco deposited her on the sofa she so adored, then started the fire. Hermione slumped over, her gaze on the flames now roaring in the grate. She heard him rummaging in drawers and was nearly asleep when he returned.

"Here you are. Drink up." He pressed a small vial into her hand, and as she sat up to drink it, he sat down on the opposite end of the sofa. In one hand, he held a glass of something that made her want to drink it and throw up all at the same time

With a grimace, she swallowed the potion and waited for the room to stop spinning. After maybe five minutes, she felt better, but still nicely buzzed. She smiled at him and started to thank him, then remembered why she was there.

"Why did you win and I didn't?" This time her voice held an annoying quaver and she told herself she wouldn't cry.

He frowned, then comprehension dawned. "You're here because of your case. Jenkins came by earlier and spoke to my mother. She asked me to come over and talk about it. I… I went to your flat to see you, but you weren't home."

Her eyes went wide. "You did? Oh. I um… I went to Harry's."

"But tell me what you meant, Hermione. What did I win?" His tone was so gentle it made her want to scream.

Well, honestly, it made her want to do a lot of things, screaming being only one thing on a long list. "You got what you wanted. Hogwarts. You had a dream, an idea, and you did what you could to make it a reality. _And_ you were successful." She looked at her hands. "I did everything right, Draco. _Everything._ Yet… the system failed me."

He stared into the flames and tossed back his drink. "Listen, Hermione. I only had success because I was working with Minerva. She held sway with the Hogwarts Board, and you have no idea how many concessions I made, how many new supplies I agreed to in order for the board to allow the changes. It wasn't done completely cleanly, and the reason is because the system is flawed. Or, rather, it works precisely as it is designed to work, to bolster the rich and powerful while keeping down those less fortunate or less magical—in their eyes at least. They were content to let me have my little project as long as they got to squeeze me for everything they could."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Draco. I didn't know."

He gave her a tired smile and went to take another drink but discovered his glass was empty. He Summoned the bottle and poured some more.

Hermione held out her hand for the bottle. He gave her a wary look, but she insisted and he finally relented. She took a swig straight from the bottle, then whistled once the whiskey hit her stomach. "That's some incredible stuff."

Draco held up his glass. "Don't drink too much, now."

She chuckled and took another sip. Considering that the sobering potion hadn't completely emptied her system of alcohol and she hadn't had any food in hours, another few swallows and she would be right back where she'd been when she arrived.

"As for me being a man, well. I can't very well help that, but I do think it gives me an advantage. You know the wizarding world is terribly backwards in many ways. Treatment and dismissal of women is only one of them."

She peered at him with fresh interest. "Why is it that you're so... different from the pureblood establishment when it comes to women?"

He snorted. "I suppose it's because I practically grew up with Pansy who, rather than succumb to the pureblood princess role laid out by her mother, questioned everything. I spent years arguing with her, standing up for traditional values, but she had a sharp and ready reply every time. Eventually, I started listening."

Hermione beamed. "That's wonderful. Does she know the effects of this history on you?"

"Merlin, no." He looked horrified. "And if you value our friendship, you'll never speak of this again."

A painful twang in her heart at the casual mention if their friendship nearly took her breath away, but she did her best to ignore it. "I would never. She hardly needs more reason to be smug. Don't get me wrong, I adore her, but she does tend to think she's right most of the time."

Draco smirked. "You have that trait in common."

"Hey!" She pushed him lightly in the shoulder, then took another swallow. "Well, I must say that I like a progressive Malfoy. And you're using your resources to help those who don't usually have a voice. It's very..."— _sexy—_ "becoming."

He raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Becoming? Is this eighteenth-century Victorian England?"

"Oh, stop!" She waved her hands and erratically shook her head. That was not a good idea; it only made her head spin. "Whoa."

"I think that's enough, don't you?"

He reached for the bottle, but she snatched it out of his reach, took a long pull, then handed it over. She giggled, then hiccuped, then giggled some more. Draco's expression was amused but also contained the hint of someone about to crash a party. He set the bottle on the floor on the other side of the sofa.

Hermione felt the alcohol take immediate effect and her smile melted into something ridiculous. She wasn't sure, but she thought he was extremely handsome right at that momentShe started to tell him so but remembered just in time that they were just friends. He had said as much so often lately. She pouted.

Draco sighed. "I'm not giving you back the bottle. I insist on being a good friend and cutting you off."

This time, the word made her feel warm and fuzzy and she returned to her sappy smile. "Friend. You are such a good friend, Draco." She scooted closer so she could peer into his eyes. It was very important that he hear what she had to say. Though, as she leaned forward, the edges of her vision blurred and the world seemed to tilt.

Draco grabbed her arms to steady her and she leaned forward, even closer, so she could speak. But before she really knew what was happening, she was pressed against him. He was wedged in the corner of the sofa, and she was leaning on him with her face mere inches from his. She could see flecks of color in his eyes, shades of gray she'd never before been close enough to observe. As her eyes flitted from one of his eyes to the other, she realized their lips were so close she could almost touch him.

She felt his breath on her lips, saw a strange mix of emotions she couldn't catalog in his eyes. Then, a stray thought registered, as her vision narrowed to him and him alone, that just a slight nudge would bring their lips crashing together. She was so drunk she couldn't feel anything but her heart threatening to burst through her rib cage, and so, without the benefit of her usually impeccable brainpower, she tipped forward, ever so slightly, and pressed her lips to his.

It was a flood of sensations she hadn't been prepared for.

Normally, she'd have wanted to explore those sensations, to examine, identity, catalog them, but she was so sleepy, and her mind was so very foggy. Instead she rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes. There'd be plenty of time for thinking in the morning.


	10. October

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after. Owl post. The last Malfoy fundraiser of the year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is being written for Dramione FanFiction Writers 2020 Challenge. For November, we had to use a random "first line generator." Since my story is from Hermione's POV exclusively, I had to click 3 times to get one that would work. Here was my line: "She opened her handbag and tipped the contents onto the floor."
> 
> Now. This would obviously not work for the beginning of this chapter, considering where we left Hermione. LOL. So I did what I've done in the past and used it as the opening for one of the days. 
> 
> Beta thanks go, as always, to dormiensa and dreamsofdramione. Beautiful graphic made by dreamsofdramione also!
> 
>   
> 

**Sunday, 1 OCTOBER**

Hermione's eyes shot open. She wasn't sure if it was the pounding headache or the roiling stomach that woke her; either could vie for the prize. For a moment, she didn't know where she was. The room was pitch black, save for a few dying embers in the fire of—

The Malfoy library.

Merlin. She was warm and, if she wasn't mistaken, she could feel the gentle rise and fall of something under her head—which was splitting. She tried to remember what had happened the night before, but her stomach was beginning to demand her attention. Draco was awkwardly half-lying, half-sitting on the green velvet sofa, his expensive clothes all rumpled from where she'd been asleep on him.

Carefully, so as not to disturb him, Hermione sat up. He moved very slightly but didn't wake, and she closed her eyes in relief, allowing herself a moment before she did anything else. She felt warm still and discovered that she was covered by a blanket. Oh so gently, she laid it on him, lest he wake up cold because he was missing her body heat. Her stomach lurched, and Hermione knew she needed to hurry. She slowly raised herself from the sofa so that the loss of her weight wouldn't disturb him, then let out a shaky breath.

She'd never seen him asleep before, and even though she was pushing her luck, she allowed herself to stare at him for a long moment.

Finally, she knew she couldn't ignore her body, and she rushed from the room, casting a charm on the door so that it would close silently behind her. The nearest bathroom was at least one hall over, but she ran as fast as she possibly could, throwing open the door and reaching the toilet just in time to evacuate the contents of her stomach into it.

When it finally passed, she slouched onto the bathroom floor, surprised to find a house-elf waiting with a cup of water and a cool washcloth.

"Oh, thank you." She shakily accepted the water, took only a sip, then pressed the washcloth to her forehead and neck. She had really overdone it the night before. "What time is it?"

"It's nearing five in the morning, Miss. Will you be requiring anything else?" Pippi appeared genuinely concerned. "Shall I wake the Master or the Mistress?"

"No!" she cried hurriedly, causing the poor elf to jump. Hermione forced herself to smile. "No, Pippi, though I appreciate your concern. This is nothing more than the repercussions for me drinking too much last night. I'll be quite all right." Another wave of sick washed over her, and Hermione turned to retch again. Pippi was there again with a fresh wash cloth. Hermione knew that no Sober-Up Potion would help at this point; she'd likely just expel it with the next round. All she could do was hope that it would pass quickly and she could Floo home before anyone woke up.

"Would the Miss like some crackers?" Pippi was wringing her hands, clearly distressed at not being able to do anything.

Hermione wracked her brain for some errand on which she might send the elf, finally settling on a cup of ginger tea.

"Right away, Miss."

Pippi disappeared in a pop and Hermione was sick once more. She was thankful that the elf had missed this round, though why she should care at this point, she didn't know. At least it would take a few minutes to brew the tea, and Hermione could tell she was nearing the end of the business. She drank a little more of the water and wiped her forehead, then leaned against the wall while she waited—for either the tea or to throw up again, whichever came first.

It wasn't the tea. Hermione felt someone hold her hair back as she finished up. She turned around, dreading that somehow Draco had woken, but it was only Pippi. She smiled at the elf and stood to examine herself in the mirror.

Her reflection looked as dreadful as she felt. Hermione grimaced.

"Tea is ready, Miss Hermione." Pippi brought a small tea service into the bathroom and Hermione sat back down to drink it as quickly as possible.

In seconds, she felt better, and she suspected the elf had put more than ginger in the tea. "Thank you, Pippi. This is wonderful."

"It's Master Draco's own tea mix. For just such an occasion."

Hermione nodded. "He should sell it. I feel very well already. Well enough, in fact, to head home."

Pippi's eyes went wide with horror. "Oh, no, Miss Hermione! You mustn't travel in such a state! Let Pippi set you up in a nice guest room with big, fluffy blankets and clean sheets and soft pillows! The Mistress will be so pleased to have you for breakfast in a few hours."

"That's very kind, Pippi, but I'm afraid it's impossible." She stood up, and a wave of nausea washed over her, but she refused to let it stop her. She simply could not be here when Draco woke. It was imperative that she get home and try to remember just what had happened the night before and how she'd wound up asleep on Draco's chest at nearly five in the morning.

Pippi followed her through the house as Hermione made her way to the fireplace. Thankfully, she was quite familiar with Malfoy Manor by this point and took only a single wrong turn. Pippi was there to set her back on course again, and as the clock struck five in the Traveling Room, Hermione threw the green powder into the fire and called her destination into the flames.

When she arrived in her flat, she rushed to the bathroom and heaved once more. Traveling by Floo while as sick as she was guaranteed that she'd be sick again, but she'd had no choice. She found herself wishing for more of Draco's tea, but she'd simply have to make do with what she had.

She put the kettle on and, despite feeling queasy, didn't throw up again. When the cup was prepared, Hermione thought to lock her Floo; she couldn't risk Draco trying to come through and talk to her. She had a feeling she needed to remember the previous night as soon as possible so that she could prepare for whatever response he might have.

When her tea was ready, Hermione grabbed her Pensieve. With a shaking hand, she pulled her memory of the night before out of her head and deposited it into the basin. Before she looked, however, she tried to remember everything that she could on her own. Her night had started with the horrible results from the Wizengamot. Then she'd gone to Harry and told him everything straight away. He had invited her out for drinks, and they'd run into Ron and Pansy. She'd wanted to ignore the bad news for a little while, and she knew she had had too much to drink, but then something had gotten into her head about the unfairness of it all. Someone had mentioned Draco, and she started stewing in her thoughts about him and his success with Hogwarts. She had come to the conclusion that she needed to confront him—only she couldn't remember exactly why she'd felt the need to do it right then.

She sighed and dipped her face into the Pensieve. The memory was hazy, as memories were when the person was drunk, but she saw herself outside Malfoy Manor, saw herself fall into Draco's arms. They had a brief conversation, and then the memory cleared up after he gave her a sobering potion. She relaxed a bit as she watched, the memory less hazy, but then she noticed Draco grab a bottle of whiskey and she cringed as she watched herself drink more.

"No," she lamented, as her memory self took swig after swig of the admittedly delicious beverage. Finally, her eyes widened in horror as she saw herself practically fall on top of him, gazing up at him with lovestruck eyes—for lack of a better term—before she leaned up and kissed him. The memory went dark when she fell asleep.

Hermione came out of the Pensieve and sat back in her chair, feeling like she'd been slapped in the face. How could she ever face him again? From what she'd seen, he had done nothing to suggest that he wanted her to kiss him; her action had come out of nowhere. The worst part of it all was that she couldn't even quite recall what it had felt like to kiss him—though, it couldn't truly be called a kiss. She'd pressed her lips to his, the connection a mere fraction of a second, before laying her head on him and passing out.

The rest she had to piece together from how she found things when she woke. It looked like Draco hadn't moved much from that position, with her asleep on top of him. He had covered her with a blanket, but then he hadn't made any effort to get more comfortable himself. Though, she surmised he had probably done his best to magically cushion himself.

Hermione groaned and lowered her head to the table. What would he think of her now? Merlin, she had actually kissed him! She'd crossed that line she'd sworn to herself she wouldn't cross! He was dating Suzanne, for Merlin's sake!

She raised her head, her eyes swiveling until they rested on her writing desk. In a flash, she crossed the room and took out a quill and parchment. She started and subsequently burned four different letters before finally landing on one she felt she could send.

===

_Draco,_

_I must beg your forgiveness for my actions last night. It was a mistake that should never have happened. My wish, above all others, is that you would forget it, pretend like it never happened, and we can go back to the way things were._

_Sincerely,_

_Hermione_

===

She stared at it, reread it, considered every word for longer than she wanted to admit, then finally tied it to the leg of her owl and sent it off.

While she waited for a reply she wasn't even sure she'd get—one she certainly didn't deserve—Hermione started cleaning her flat. The Muggle way. It felt really good to scrub things by hand, to take out the anxiety she was feeling on the kitchen sink, the bathroom floor, and, quite reasonably, the toilet.

She was just about to start on the grout in her shower when there was a tapping at her window. She threw her cleaning things down, pulled off her elbow-length rubber gloves, and rushed to let the bird in. Her heart skipped and her stomach did a funny somersault when she recognized Draco's Eagle Owl. With shaking fingers, she removed the note.

The owl nipped playfully at her hand, and she hurried to give him a treat before he flew away.

===

_Hermione,_

_Of course. Consider it forgotten._

_Draco_

===

Her heart dropped into her stomach, and she realized that, despite her adamant wish for him to forget that she'd kissed him while almost black-out drunk, some nugget of hope must have formed inside her heart without her realizing—hope that he would send some other kind of reply, telling her that he'd welcomed the kiss, brief though it was.

No, it wasn't even a kiss. She hadn't even moved her lips once she'd pressed them to his, so it didn't count. It was simply a mistake. She couldn't imagine that anything about what she'd done had inspired a wish for it to be repeated. It had been stupid for her subconscious to hope.

Hermione shook her head, tucked the note into a book, and rose to truly begin her day.

**ooo**

After a shower and a proper breakfast, complete with another hangover potion, Hermione felt almost completely normal. She opened her planner and examined the month ahead. Though, now that her case had been lost, she didn't know what the month held. She couldn't look at her art class with any sort of anticipation. She hadn't even started the book for her book club that was scheduled to meet later in the week.

Worst of all, the date of the year's final Malfoy Foundation event loomed near the end of the month, mocking her with its existence. She could reasonably avoid Draco for the weeks leading up to the event, but there was no way that he wouldn't be there, and of course, it was assumed that Hermione would attend. She was, after all, one of the two primary organizers. This event, more than any others, she'd thrown herself into the planning and organizing of, and she was excited for it—not to mention excited to learn what the focus of the fundraising would be.

At least… she _had_ been, until she'd gone and fallen on Draco's mouth.

There was no way she could face him, but she was expected at the Manor a few times in the near future for planning purposes with Narcissa. That should be fine, Hermione told herself. Draco wasn't usually there for those sessions, and there was no need to suspect otherwise. He could go back to his girlfriend—just thinking the word made her heart squeeze painfully—as though _The Incident_ had never happened.

She'd need to find a date—and not just Ron or Harry—because of course, Draco would probably invite Suzanne. She didn't know many details about that relationship, but he'd brought Astoria to the fundraiser in April, and that had been their one and only date. Surely he'd bring Suzanne, since they were in an actual relationship.

Hermione's mind began to spin as she considered who to invite. Marcus came to mind, but she instantly dismissed the thought; that would be cruel. Then she considered seeing if Harry or Ron knew anybody. She knew things were bad when she considered letting Pansy set her up.

A brief glance at her planner showed that the event was still over two weeks away, and she relaxed slightly. She had time to find someone.

Oh! Maybe Viktor! He was still single, as far as she knew, and he'd always said that she could reach out to him if she needed anything. And, truly, her situation felt dire, even if it was all in her own head. She needed Draco to see that she desperately meant what she'd written, that the kiss had been a mistake, and that they should pretend nothing had happened. She recognized that this was a coping mechanism, that she was trying to overcompensate in an effort to protect her heart, but still…

She hoped it worked.

**ooo**

* * *

**Saturday, 7 October  
**

Hermione was relieved when Saturday finally came around. Without her job to go to, she felt listless and unmoored. She didn't miss the work, far from it, but at least going to the Ministry every day gave her life a rhythm that she now lacked and sorely missed.

Narcissa had invited her over for the afternoon so they could discuss some final details for the Foundation event, and beyond seeing Harry at lunch, she'd be the first human Hermione had interacted with in days.

There was no chance that Draco would be there, which gave Hermione some comfort. Even though she'd said she wanted to pretend nothing had happened, she simply couldn't get the images out of her head. Waking up, effectively in his arms, seeing him resting so peacefully, the dying fire crackling now and then. It was the stuff of her dreams now because it was the closest she'd ever come to that being a reality.

Narcissa greeted her warmly, kissing both cheeks, and led her into the parlor. "I've prepared tea. I thought we might begin there and then we can move to the sitting area to continue the discussion."

Hermione nodded, feeling relaxed in a way she hadn't in a week, despite being back in the place where she'd stupidly kissed Draco. No, where she'd fallen on his lips with her mouth. It wasn't a kiss! Although, to be fair, a kiss was the best way she could think to easily and quickly describe it, and so she resolved to call it a kiss, knowing that it was always followed by an asterisk in her mind.

"How have you been? Draco said you'd stopped by last week. I'm sorry I missed you."

Hermione's cheeks began to burn and she set to work, preparing her tea to hide her reaction from Narcissa the best she could. "Oh, um, yes, I did. I had a few questions for him."

Narcissa arched a sculpted eyebrow. "At nearly midnight?"

Even though the last thing she wanted to do was look at Narcissa, Hermione couldn't help but glance up in surprise. The Malfoy matriarch was coolly sipping her tea, regarding Hermione with amusement. She felt even more ridiculous.

"Well, I'd had a bit too much to drink, I'll admit, and probably should have waited until a more socially acceptable hour." He hadn't told his mother about the kiss, had he? He wouldn't have, right?

"And did you receive answers to your satisfaction?"

Hermione frowned. It wasn't like Narcissa to pry, nor to seem so pleased with herself in doing so. Before she could reply, however, Narcissa continued with a wave of her hand.

"Draco merely said it had to do with the case you lost. That you were upset."

She was now thoroughly on edge. "Yes. It was a mistake to come so late, but to my addled brain, it made perfect sense to confront him about why he'd been successful in his endeavors where I was not."

Narcissa's expression faltered, taking on something more like sympathy. "Oh, I see. He… he didn't elaborate, and I…" She set her cup down and rolled her shoulders back. "Forgive me, Hermione. I let myself get a bit carried away. How has your week been?"

Hermione hesitated, then groaned and told Narcissa everything about losing her job. It hadn't come as a surprise, but it was still unwelcome and embarrassing. She had no idea what she was going to do next, and she told Narcissa as much.

"The worst part is, I'm afraid I've burned every single bridge to the Ministry. No matter what I do, I can't see them ever hiring me again in any capacity."

Narcissa shrugged elegantly. "There are many other places worthy of your devotion." Her eyes brightened. "You could join the Foundation in a permanent, full-time capacity."

"That's very kind of you, Narcissa, but I'm afraid I need an actual paycheck."

"Don't be ridiculous. I know that, of course. We'd hire you in a position that we would create for you, wherein you would continue to do exactly what you've been doing." She actually seemed to be excited about the idea. "Under your care, we could even expand our calendar, and you could spend your time seeking other worthy causes that we might assist. I want you to seriously consider it."

Hermione smiled weakly. As much as she liked the idea, as much as she admired the woman across from her and all the work she'd done over the years since the war, Hermione didn't think her future was in managing and running a charitable organization. Not to mention that she'd frequently be in Draco's company, and watching him fulfill his family obligations by marrying and having a family wasn't something she could bear to consider at present.

"Don't say no." Narcissa held up a finger. "Just say you'll think about it."

Hermione sighed. "All right. That I can do."

"Good. Let's discuss the event. Now, as you know, our October event usually revolves around the Ministry of Magic. We like to… how shall I put this? Help correct things the Ministry has messed up during the course of the year. Draco is in discussions with a few people over what exactly will be featured. But we _can_ work on the seating chart. It's always quite tricky when dealing with the Ministry. You've got to please the right people, either by seating them close to or far from specific people." Narcissa then broke down what would be happening, while Hermione listened and took notes.

Ninety minutes later, they found themselves standing beside a table, directing a miniature version of the potential dinner guests as they attempted to satisfactorily seat everyone. They'd just realized that putting the Head of International Magical Cooperation beside the Head of Muggle Relations would be a disaster, and they were laughing over an incident between the two women that had made the papers just that week.

Hermione's back was to the door, and she didn't notice Narcissa's attention drawn in that direction.

"Ah, Draco! Good, you're here! What do you think of these arrangements?"

Hermione's body froze but her heart started pounding furiously. She didn't look up as Draco crossed the room to survey the miniature scene.

He chuckled a few times, made a few comments about the guests, then stood back to examine it one last time. "I think it's fine, Mother." Then he looked at her. "Hello, Hermione."

"Hi."

There was a long pause before she turned back to the table as though she needed to look at something very closely. It was awkward and she knew it, but she had no idea what else to do or how to react. Yes, she'd told him to forget it, but clearly that was not something she would have an easy time doing.

After a moment, he cleared his throat and continued speaking with his mother. Hermione could barely hear them over the sound of the blood pounding in her ears. She had to withdraw her hand from nudging a little figure because she was shaking.

Somehow, she'd gone from wanting to see him—all the time, as much as possible—to being anxious for him to leave. Surely this would pass, wouldn't it? Maybe once she got over the awkwardness of kissing him, they'd get back to where they'd been: the place where she had ever-growing feelings for him and he regarded her as a friend, and they would have deep, interesting and stimulating conversations now and again. He would continue to do amazing things that would make her adore him as a person. He would take her breath away with one of his special smiles…

And then he would fall in love and get married—to someone else—and she would have to watch.

"Hermione?"

She jumped, startled. "I'm sorry. What were you saying?" Both Narcissa and Draco were looking at her, the former amused, the latter wary.

"What do you think of putting the Head of Games and Sports at the same table with your former Department Head?" Narcissa pointed to the two little figures who represented those individuals.

Hermione shook her head slightly to clear her thoughts. "Oh, um, that sounds all right to me."

Narcissa gave Draco a satisfied smirk. "That should be interesting, don't you think, darling? Oh, to be invisible at that table."

Draco chuckled and shook his head. "Who can we seat there that we could count on giving us a thorough retelling afterwards? What about Jenkins and his wife? He's an Auror who always wants to impress Potter. He'd talk to me, since Potter is my partner."

"Perfect." Narcissa made the change and then smiled. "Well, I think we're done. I'll finish up our table later. Why don't I ask the elves to bring us more tea?"

Hermione nearly panicked and she spoke before Draco could. "Oh, I really ought to be going, Narcissa. But thank you for the lovely afternoon!"

Narcissa's expression dipped ever so slightly, and her eyes darted to her son. "Draco, will you see Hermione out?"

"Thank you, really, but I know where I'm going!" Her voice was a little too panicked. She forced a smile and gathered her things. "Really, Draco just got home, and I can find my way down the hall without an escort. Please don't hesitate to owl me if you need anything."

She practically ran out of the room.

**ooo**

* * *

**Sunday, 15 OCTOBER**

Sundays at The Burrow were some of the best, and Hermione especially loved the crisp, autumn days with a roaring fire, warm drinks, and fabulous conversation. She felt a little restless this day, however, a bit detached from all the happiness around her. After dinner, when Hermione found herself alone by the fire and not interested in leaving it, Ginny sat down beside her.

"What's going on?" Ginny was gazing at her expectantly.

Hermione stared at the flames, trying to keep her expression impassive. "What do you mean?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "You've been off all day; don't think I haven't noticed. Is it—did something happen?"

Hermione felt a rush of both gratitude that her friend had seen her and relief at remembering she had someone she could talk to. She glanced around to find that they were well and truly alone but cast a _Muffliato_ Charm anyway.

"The truth is… something did happen, Ginny."

"With Malfoy, you mean?" Her eyes danced in the firelight, eager for all the details.

Hermione didn't hesitate. She told Ginny about everything that had happened after she'd lost the case, from drinks with Harry to Apparating to Malfoy Manor.

Ginny gasped. "You didn't! Hermione that's... very dangerous, very bold, and not at all like you! I'm so proud!"

Hermione laughed, then finished the tale. "I kissed him, but then I quickly fell asleep. On him."

Ginny gaped at her, then squealed. "Yes? And? What did he say?"

"Nothing, I... I woke up a few hours later and was sick in a bathroom. Then I left and went home without talking to him." She buried her face in her hands. "Some Gryffindor I am! And then I immediately wrote to him, telling him to forget it had happened."

"You didn't!" Ginny cried. "Hermione! What did he say?"

"He agreed. Of course he would. And now... Oh, Ginny, things are so awkward between us!" Hermione groaned. "I've seen him three times—three! Three times in the last week, which is unusual, honestly, but they were little things. And they've all been unmitigated disasters."

Ginny gaped at her. "Oh no, what has he said?"

"Nothing!" Hermione shook her head. "He's... he's said nothing. In fact, he's acted absolutely, perfectly as I had asked him to. As though nothing had happened, but... oh, it's been all me. I have felt so strange around him!" She dropped her face into her hands once again. "What must he think of me?"

Ginny sighed and rubbed her back for a long while. "Honestly? Probably nothing. There's a very good chance that he did as you asked and forgot about the kiss. Or, if Pansy's right and he does fancy you, he's plotting."

Hermione jerked up, her eyes wide in horror. "Of course she isn't right! He... he's dating his neighbor, remember? And... he'd have said something, wouldn't he?"

Ginny shrugged. "Malfoy is a mystery. He's been over, you know. Loads of times. Just last week, for example. Harry invites him for dinner, then the two of them go outside. No idea what they get up to—I've tried to find out, believe me. One thing I do know is that they laugh a lot. The first time I heard it, I thought the world must have ended. I don't know why I'm saying all of this; I suppose it's just to say... I don't think you should presume anything about him. He doesn't strike me as someone who plays games; but, then again, he's a Slytherin, and if he did play games, he'd never show his cards." She paused in thought. "Actually, he'd never show his cards unless he thought he could win. Game or no game."

Hermione didn't think Ginny had said anything particularly helpful, but she did wish to hear Draco laugh the way she had described. "What do I do, Gin? How do I fix this? Every time, the awkwardness gets worse, and... I'm afraid I'm going to mess everything up! Oh, I wish I hadn't been so stupid as to kiss him!"

"There, there." Ginny patted her gently. "It will work itself out."

"Have I ruined our friendship, though? Do you think we can recover from this?"

Ginny held out a container of popcorn she'd been hiding. "I think so. It's not like the two of you snogged and now you both regret it. That would be much harder to work through. And thank Merlin you didn't sleep together. That's a death sentence for a friendship unless you both have underlying feelings for each other." Ginny gave her a very pointed look. "Of course, you have to talk to each other to sort that out."

"Maybe this will pass." Hermione sighed. "It's just, every time I see him, I picture him the way he was when I woke up. And... Gin, I _want_ that. I want _him_. I haven't felt this way about someone in a very long time. Maybe I never have. I'd never been so close to him before, and I barely even remember it."

Neither spoke for a few minutes. Hermione let her eyes unfocus as she stared into the mesmerizing flames.

"You should tell him the truth."

"Must I?"

Ginny chuckled. "Yes, Hermione. If this keeps going on, if you can't get past it... you'll have to tell him."

Hermione didn't respond. She felt the truth of Ginny's proclamation, knew in her heart that it was inevitable, but she didn't feel ready—not even close.

**ooo**

* * *

**Friday, 20 OCTOBER**

Hermione jumped at the knock on her door. A glance at the clock told her that Viktor was five minutes early. Five minutes was usually completely acceptable, but she wasn't ready yet. At all. Oh, sure, her dress was on, her hair was done, her makeup was applied, and her accessories were in place. But she felt completely unsettled.

She'd be seeing Draco with Suzanne for the first time, and she was dreading it. Suzanne was different, somehow. From the little she'd seen, though only introduced in August, Suzanne was a perfectly lovely witch, someone who could appreciate Draco's good qualities without being weighed down by the baggage of the war and everything that came before it. Since Suzanne had grown up in America, despite being from Ireland, she hadn't been around for all of that, hadn't known Draco as anything other than the perfectly put together man he was now.

He must enjoy being around her, able to completely forget his past.

The knock came again, snatching Hermione from her thoughts. She sighed heavily, checked the mirror one last time, and went to the door.

"Viktor." She smiled at her friend, who looked rather dashing in his dress robes. "Thank you so much for joining me."

"Anytime, Hermione." He stepped inside and she quickly shut and locked the door behind him.

"I'm ready. The Portkey doesn't activate for another few minutes, though." She held out a large, brass key.

"Does the Malfoy Foundation always provide Portkeys for their guests?" He examined the key, turning it over and feeling the weight in his hands. "About three Snitches, I think."

She laughed. "Do you do that often? Compare things to the weight of a Snitch?"

He shrugged. "I have put my hand around more Snitches than I can count; I think I have a good feel for it. It amuses me to think of it."

"I'm glad. All right, it's nearly time."

Viktor held out his arm with a look of deep appreciation. "You look beautiful tonight, Hermione."

She took his arm, placing her other hand on the key. "Thank you! You're looking rather handsome as well. How is it that you're not married yet?"

He chuckled. "Haven't met the right woman, I suppose."

The Portkey activated then, and in a few seconds, they arrived in a large lobby. After depositing the used Portkey in an elaborately decorated box, Hermione indicated which way they should go. Viktor escorted her into the grand ballroom of the hotel, her breath catching as they entered. She'd been in the room only an hour before, but somehow, the ballroom had been completely transformed in that time. After a cursory glance around, her eyes wide with the wonder of it, Hermione spotted Narcissa, already deep in conversation with a small group of Ministry officials.

Her stomach flipped uncomfortably as she remembered that she'd be seeing her former employer before the night was over.

Viktor swept her into the room, and everyone they encountered was amazed and amused to see Hermione's date. He drew far more attention than she did—still the famous international Quidditch star and Most Valuable Player in the most recent World Cup—but she remained by his side, determined to throw herself into each moment and not think about Draco, who would certainly be arriving with Suzanne any moment, if he weren't already there.

The mingling lasted nearly an hour, and she was exhausted from all of the small talk. When they were finally called to their tables for dinner, she still hadn't set eyes on Draco. But there he was, near the front, his bright blond hair shining under all the lights. To her astonishment, Suzanne wasn't at his side. She quickly counted the people at his table and concluded that he'd escorted his mother to the event or, at the very least, he'd attended solo.

Her heart started pounding, but she had to remind herself that it didn't mean anything. They'd barely spoken two easy words to each other since she'd kissed him as September tipped over into October, and she didn't see any reason why that would change tonight.

Hermione and Viktor were seated at a table with Harry and Ginny, Neville and Hannah, and another couple she didn't know well, though the wife worked in the DMLE. Harry seemed to know her well, and the two of them talked easily.

Ginny leaned over to Hermione and whispered, "Any improvement?"

Hermione knew she was asking about her relationship with Draco. She shook her head. "It will just take time, I believe."

"I still really think you ought to talk to him. Just… be honest."

"No, I've told you, I can't do that." She smiled sadly at her friend, then tried to get lost in the conversation which, while composed of fewer people, was nonetheless exhausting. She realized only ten minutes into the meal that she wanted to go home. Being around so many Ministry employees, seeing her former boss at the table with the Head of Games and Sports, laughing and carrying on, was harder than she'd imagined it would be. She couldn't help but suspect they were laughing at her expense.

She was about to visit the loo, in an effort to escape some of the noise, when Narcissa stood from her place. Silence fell as she made her way to the podium, where she would deliver the news about this year's fundraising efforts. Her dress was a deep green that shimmered under the lights, the bodice fitted and the skirt flowing elegantly around her.

"Welcome, Mr. Minister, distinguished guests, and honored friends. This is the final Malfoy Foundation fundraiser for the year, and as you know, it's designated as the event where we try to help the Ministry out in some area of special need. In the past we've done various things for whatever department was in need. This year, our fundraising focus looks a little bit different, but we on the board believe it's just as important as all the previous efforts, if not more so." Narcissa took a breath and smiled serenely over the crowd.

"I'm sure you're all aware that the Malfoy Foundation is blessed to have Miss Hermione Granger as part of my personal team, and until very recently, she was one of your own."

Hermione forgot to breathe when her heart thudded to a halt, then started pounding in her chest. Her wide eyes stared at Narcissa, suddenly quite afraid of what the woman might say next.

"She was working very hard on a project to assist a colony of pixies, the largest one in England, from being ousted from their homes."

She couldn't help it; Hermione glanced at the table where her former boss and the Head of Games and Sports were sitting. They looked frozen, one in anger, the other in pure shock. Hermione shut her eyes and silently begged Narcissa not to do anything she'd regret.

"A new Quidditch stadium is scheduled to be built in the forest where the pixies currently live, and the construction will severely impact their habitat. Malfoy Foundation, under the direction of my son, has been searching all of the United Kingdom for a new home for the creatures. I'm thrilled to announce that we've found a plot of land that has everything the Pixie Queen desires in a new home, and we are raising funds in order to purchase the land and assist the colony in its relocation efforts."

Hermione let out her breath. She shouldn't have doubted that Narcissa would protect her, but she'd been so surprised her brain had practically shut down. Instead, the woman had managed to describe the problem without implicating anyone in the room and frame it in such a way that those responsible for the mess could then be involved in making right what they'd fought so hard to tear down. Her esteem for Narcissa grew, which she hadn't quite thought possible.

"The land is tucked nicely in the heart of a national park in Scotland, and with a few modifications, will be the perfect home for the pixies. For those of you who have been following this story and have been concerned about the welfare of the pixie colony, you know how wonderful an opportunity it will be to provide these truly delightful creatures with a new home. You will be pleased to know they will be protected there and never again have to worry about their home being upset."

Narcissa continued talking for a few minutes, but Hermione tuned out the rest. She glanced at Draco and found him watching her; she instantly blushed a deep red. She held his gaze for a moment, however, feasting on the soft smile on his face—so different from the tension that had been building between them ever since the kiss.

She couldn't let herself stare for too long, though, and when the crowd laughed, she returned to listening to Narcissa. She was only saying that she hoped everyone enjoyed the dessert and dancing, and looked forward to speaking with the Pixie Queen the following day to tell her that the land purchase would be going forward.

Hermione chuckled, having no doubt that the woman would be sure to wrangle substantial donations from both her former boss and the department of Games and Sports. She only wished she could be a fly on the wall to observe Narcissa, who was a master at negotiating and encouraging people to donate far more than they'd intended.

When the dancing began, Hermione stood up once with Viktor, then wanted a drink of water. She'd been thinking all through the dance that this was Draco's doing. He had taken the problem before the board, argued for it, then took the lead in finding a new home for the pixies. And as much as she tried to reason it away, she couldn't help but think he had done it for her. After all, it had been her mission, her efforts over the past few months to have the stadium plan halted, and when that was no longer possible, he must have started researching alternatives. Her biggest regret was that she'd been so bloody awkward with him lately that he hadn't asked her to work with him. She'd done a bit of looking of her own since the Wizengamot ruled against her, but her heart hadn't been in it. She'd felt so demoralized that she couldn't conjure the motivation to press forward in her defeat.

She resolved to thank him, that was simply all there was to it. Hermione finished her water, then searched the room for the shock of white blond hair. She spotted him in conversation with three senior Ministry officials, and she took a deep breath, willed her hands to stop shaking, and started across the room toward him. Halfway there, a waiter crossed her path with glasses of wine on a tray. Hermione stopped him, took a glass with a smile, then downed it and returned the glass to the tray. The thought of another flitted through her mind, but she remembered what had happened the last time she'd had too much to drink and then went in search of Draco. She nodded to the waiter and continued toward Draco.

As she neared him, one of the officials was drawn into another conversation, and then a second walked away, leaving Draco alone with Roberts from International Magical Cooperation. She entered their space and found them in a deep discussion, so she stopped near Draco but not close enough to interrupt or intrude while still making her presence known.

"Ah, here's Miss Granger!" boomed the other man. "It's a shame what happened. I don't think you'll be away from us for too long."

"You're very kind, Mr. Roberts. I do miss working."

"Malfoy and I were just debating the merits of importing certain magical items versus attempting to create our own. Would you like to jump in?" He grinned good-naturedly. "He's got some good points, but I think he might need some assistance."

Hermione blushed, knowing full well that Draco needed absolutely no help in a friendly argument. "That sounds fascinating, but I'm afraid I must decline and further apologize, Mr. Roberts. I need a word with Draco, if you don't mind."

"Of course! Something to do with the fundraising, I'm sure." He clapped Draco on the shoulder. "We'll have to continue this next time you're near my office, Malfoy!"

Draco smiled politely. "Next time I'm on the 5th floor, I'll be sure to stop by."

Roberts walked away, and Hermione felt the nerves in her middle fire anxiously. She turned and fully faced Draco, her eyes meeting his for the first time since that night in his library—not counting the long distance gaze from earlier.

Her stomach flipped even more frantically, and her palms started to feel clammy.

Would she ever be able to look him in the eye again without having this reaction?

"What did you need?" Draco asked in a clipped tone.

His shortness reminded her why she was there, and she shook her head slightly to clear the fog. "I was hoping you'd dance with me, actually."

His eyes widened in surprise. "Dance?"

"Yes. We haven't danced at one of these things in a while"

Draco frowned slightly and fidgeted with one of his cufflinks. But then he gave her a tight smile. "I'd like that." Ever the consummate gentleman, his good breeding took over, and he guided Hermione to the dance floor. One song was ending, and they joined about twenty couples around them. They stood facing each other, and Draco put one hand on her waist. She held her hand out to him, and he took it, their eyes locked together while they waited for another song to start.

The first note of the violin began, and, right on cue, Draco swept her into the dance. She'd seen him dance at plenty of functions, and while she'd always thought he was excellent, he'd never seemed to enjoy it. He was graceful but stiff with her, and she knew it was all because of the strange tension between them.

After a few minutes of silence, she summoned all her courage to say what she'd come to say. "Draco, I can't believe what you did for me."

His eyes, which had been directed over her shoulder, snapped to meet hers. "For you?"

She blushed, hoping she hadn't made yet another terrible blunder. "Yes! The pixie relocation efforts! You can't expect me to believe that the idea came out of nowhere."

"Ah. Yes. Of course."

With a pleasant warmth from the earlier glass of wine flowing through her veins, Hermione pressed on before it failed her. "It was extremely generous and kind of you, especially considering I've been completely awful to you these past few weeks."

"I'm not sure awful is quite the right word." He still felt awkward and stiff. She thought she might cry.

She _missed_ him, missed the ease of their friendship, their natural way of being together.

"No, it's not nearly strong enough. I asked you to pretend that that… _kiss_ never happened, and you agreed and carried yourself perfectly in line with your word. The problem is, I can't let it go. I'm well aware that I am the problem here, Draco, and I just hate it. I'm so sorry for how I've treated you. It wasn't fair for me to ask you to do something I couldn't do myself. Pretend it didn't happen, I mean. When I was around you, I felt so embarrassed. Even now, just coming to talk to you, I was so nervous." She grimaced, thankful it was dark enough to hide her blush.

His expression softened, but he seemed to peer at her. "You were embarrassed?"

"Yes! You're my… my _friend,_ and you're dating someone, and... I don't know what I was thinking."

He looked away, quiet for a few strains. When he glanced back at her, he forced a smile, his eyes tight and closed. "All right."

He didn't speak again, content, it seemed, to lead her through the dance until the end, and she had no doubt he would not ask for a repeat. But she didn't want him to go. Now that she was here, in his arms, she wondered how they could possibly get back to where they'd been before her foolhardy act.

"Is that all?" The words left her lips before she checked herself, so soft she wondered if he even heard her.

But his gaze flitted to her, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Is there nothing else the matter?" Tears smarted. "Why does it feel like nothing will be the same?"

He shook his head, and she sensed his frustration. "I shouldn't wonder, I should let it go, but I find myself unable to. At least, not in the short time since you said it, and maybe this is a mistake to ask, but can you tell me why you were embarrassed? Nobody saw it, and I would never tell a soul." There was a note of pleading in his tone, barely there.

"It wasn't that kind of embarrassment. I didn't know how I could face you again, truly face you. What must you have thought of me? I showed up on your doorstep, drunk, which I don't normally do, with all kinds of accusatory questions that only made sense in my addled mind. You took me in, and you were a true friend through it all. You gave me some sobering potion, though it wasn't quite enough to fully do the job. You talked to me, listened to me, then I kept drinking more because I was so distraught over the case. Finally, I was so pissed that I decided I should kiss you, then I fell asleep. Out cold. On top of you. I've watched my memory, and it was completely out of the blue. You didn't ask for any of it, you made no indication that you wanted me to kiss you, and moreover, rather than apologize right then or even begin to process what had happened, I fell asleep." She shook her head, feeling the shame anew.

"I see." He was frowning deeply, distracted enough to miss a step, which caused her to overcompensate and grab his arm to keep from stumbling. He quickly corrected, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close to keep her upright.

It happened so quickly.

He cleared his throat, something raw and unfettered in his eyes. His eyes searched hers for a beat, then he stepped back and resumed the proper posture for their waltz. "Forgive me."

Hermione swallowed hard, her body aching at the loss of contact, however brief it had been.

When it seemed he had no intention of speaking, she felt a little desperate.

_Would he say nothing? Would this rift between them remain? Was he content to let their friendship fail over one, tiny, ill-fated kiss? A kiss that could barely even be called a kiss?_

"Are you very upset with me?" Her words were barely above a whisper.

Something in his gaze softened before he sighed. The song was heading toward its conclusion, and somehow she felt like this was the end. Their connection, which she valued so highly, would end. Maybe not instantly, but this was the beginning of that end. Tears threatened once more.

A long moment passed as they continued going through the motions.

"I _was_ upset, to be honest. When I woke to discover you gone, I searched the entire house, finally thinking to ask if any elves knew where you were. Pippi informed me you'd been ill and gone home, so I didn't think much of it. When I got your note—" His jaw clenched and his gaze hardened. "I'll admit I was angry. I wanted to respect your wishes, but…"

He looked at her then, his expression torn, and her breath caught in her throat. She was grateful for his presence, else her knees might have failed her, so full of anticipation was she in that moment. The final chords of the melody trailed into their final decrescendo, and Draco sighed.

"I was angry, Hermione, because if that was to be the only kiss between us, I couldn't bear the thought that I had played no part in it."

As the notes of the violins faded, the pounding of her heart was so intense that she feared it might burst at any second. "What?"

He released her and stepped back, his body so tense that she worried he would snap. "Thank you for the dance." He spun on his heel and walked away.

She called to him and tried to follow, but he had disappeared so completely that he might have become invisible.

**ooo**

Twenty minutes later, she still hadn't seen him, but it wasn't for lack of trying. She'd asked everyone she encountered if they'd seen him, and the answer was often the same: she had just missed him. Finally, desperate to speak with him again, she went to Narcissa.

"Oh, Draco?" Narcissa gazed around the room, searching for her only son. "I haven't seen him since I watched you two dance." Her eyes sparkled. "If I see him, I'll let him know you're looking for him."

Hermione nodded, biting her lip. "He might have left."

"That would surprise me, considering he's been highly sought after all evening, thanks to his work." She beamed. "What did you think? I know we did a cruel thing, keeping the big surprise from you two events in a row, but Draco insisted."

"It was wonderful, Narcissa, truly. I'm very pleased. But forgive me for rushing off, I simply must find him. Our conversation was interrupted, and I really need to say something to him."

"Of course, dear. The last I saw of him, he was speaking to Elias Torburry from the Muggle Relations Office. Good luck." Narcissa gave her arm a little squeeze.

As soon as Hermione stepped away, Narcissa was surrounded by Ministry officials once more. Hermione didn't know how she managed to stay so calm and cordial with every person in the room who wished to speak with her. She had a feeling that if she were in Narcissa's position, she wouldn't be so patient.

After another turn around the room, Hermione huffed in frustration. It was as though he were avoiding her—which, if he meant what she couldn't quite let herself dare to hope he meant—she understood.

But he needed to know the whole truth, and she wouldn't rest until they'd finished what they'd started. She stopped and looked toward the food table in front of her, and then her own thought from mere moments before came roaring back: he _was_ avoiding her.

She quickly spun on her heel, gazing everywhere she'd just been, and grinned in triumph when she spotted a flash of his hair as he ducked behind a door. _Excellent_. Without taking her eyes off the doorway, she made a beeline for him.

To her astonishment, the door he'd disappeared through led onto a very small balcony, only as wide and deep as the French doors that opened onto it. Draco turned around, startled, and the doors closed behind her.

They were completely alone.

"Draco—"

He held up a hand. "No, Hermione, if I may. There's something I need to tell you."

She bit her lip but decided not to argue. "All right."

"Merlin, this place is small." He seemed frantic, glancing quickly around as though he were considering jumping over the railing into the garden below.

Hermione pulled out her wand and with a few flicks, the area had expanded. She'd also Conjured a few benches, feeling grateful for the extra room as well.

He shot her an appreciative look and began pacing. "You thanked me for tonight. Earlier. When we were dancing. But I have to be honest. I did all of this—I started looking for somewhere new for the pixies to live—because I was stubborn and angry with you, and I wanted to show you that you'd made a mistake by not listening to me."

"What?" She felt like she'd been slapped. His words were a far cry from what she'd dared to hope he would say.

"My frustration with you had been building since July, when you repeatedly refused my help." He shot her a pleading look as she opened her mouth. "Please, I'm not here to argue about that. I was an arse. I was so puffed up about my success with Hogwarts that I thought you were absurd not to let me help. It grated on my nerves, even while I tried to push those feelings away. I played the part of your friend, but I wasn't acting like one."

Hermione crossed to the nearest bench and sat down, slowly shaking her head. She chuckled wryly. "Oh."

Draco approached her, his expression wrecked. He seemed to want to comfort her, but then thought better of it and returned to pacing. "I threw my name and my money at the problem and I succeeded, but it was bittersweet. I wanted to show you that I'd been right, that you should have listened to me after all. My first thought was to buy the land myself, but by that point, we'd made up, and the bite behind my actions was gone. I thought to put the land in your name, but I couldn't do that without telling you first. When I told my mother everything, she suggested having the Foundation purchase the land and holding it in a trust."

He paused and looked at her, as though waiting for her to storm away. When she didn't, when she held his gaze steady, he approached her hesitantly, coming so close she had to look up to see his eyes. Then he knelt on the ground, unconcerned for what she knew had to be his very expensive trousers.

"I learned a few things about myself, things I'm not proud of. I realized that it was selfish of me to think that you should have come to me, let me help you, as though I alone could solve your problems. I also recognized that I am a prideful man. I didn't like that you spurned my assistance, and I wanted to prove you wrong." He shut his eyes tight and shook his head. "But my success with the land felt nothing like the success with Hogwarts, and it took me a while to figure out why. It was my selfishness, my pride. When I realized those were my underlying motivations for doing what I was doing, it soured me completely on the success of finding somewhere for the pixies to move. I wanted to tell you, to come clean, but I was afraid you'd hate me—I know how important motivation is for you—and then you kissed me and everything went to shit and—"

"Draco." Hermione put a finger on his lips, and he stilled instantly. She smiled slightly. Her thoughts were spinning at his confession, and while she appreciated it, she mainly just wanted to know what he'd meant earlier. "It sounds like you've been beating yourself up about it plenty for both of us. Thank you for what you did. I'm sure your motivations weren't strictly self-serving."

He stood and went to the railing near the bench, looking out over the dark grounds. "You thanked me for doing this for you." He met her eyes over his shoulder. "I did."

Hermione rose and joined him at the railing. She intentionally put herself closer to him than she'd ever done before, and just that little act of boldness set her nerves on edge. "Thank you, Draco. Pride, selfishness, and all."

Draco turned so he was facing her, but the action put more distance between them.

She frowned slightly and leaned toward him; he didn't move. Emboldened, she stepped in farther, her hand trailing on the wide stone rail. She watched the path of her fingers until she stopped short, close enough to his hand that she could feel his warmth. With her eyes still on her hand, she hesitantly, cautiously, reached out and placed her fingers on his.

The touch was the most intimate she'd ever been with him, conscious at least, and she felt her heart skip and her breath hitch. Fire shot through her nerves where they touched, and she thrilled at the mere thought of threading her fingers through his.

He was breathing heavily beside her, and something about it made her remember Suzanne. She froze and pulled her hand away. Oh, how could she have been so stupid! Tears sprang to her eyes and she made to step away. "I'm so sorry!"

Draco didn't hesitate. His hand shot out, lightning quick, and he grabbed her wrist to keep her from fleeing. "What? Why?" His voice was thick, scratchy, as though he hadn't spoken in a very long time.

"Suzanne! It completely slipped my mind. I… I should go, I should—"

His grip tightened, not enough to hurt but enough to let her know that he didn't plan on letting her get away. "There's nothing. That's… that was never anything much, merely… an attempt…"

Hermione dared to look him in the eye, and when she did, her breath caught. His expression was intense, his eyes flashing, that unfettered something threatening to spill over. "Draco…" Her voice was merely a whisper, and she couldn't help but look at his lips.

With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer, pausing to see what she would do. When she leaned forward, he brought her all the way to him, releasing her and in the same motion, bringing his hand up to her face. Hesitantly, almost reverently, his shaking hand touched her cheek with the tip of a finger, then lightly traced the line of her jaw until his fingers neared her mouth. Then he pressed the pad of his thumb to her lips, dragging her lower lip down with a slight pull. He then drew his thumb back up her jawline until his fingers ghosted her neck. He began to lightly rub his thumb against her cheek, and then he turned his gaze back to her eyes.

"Draco…" It came out a whisper but it was also a wish.

He wrapped his fingers behind her neck more firmly, using them to apply just the right pressure to tip her head up. When he lowered his lips to hers, Hermione let out a shuddering breath just before he kissed her.

It was the most intense thing she'd ever felt in her life, and her legs wobbled—all from the pressure of his mouth on hers. She brought her hands up to touch his face, scarcely able to believe that this was real.

As soon as the tips of her fingers touched his skin, he started moving, kissing her deliberately, delicately, a heated battle between too much and never enough. Hermione returned his kiss with equal fervor, moaning softly when he nipped her bottom lip. Draco deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around her, his hands hot on the cool, bare skin of her back. All the while he kissed her, his thumb was in constant motion, dancing on her skin with feather-light brushes, making her shiver in the most delightful way.

Soon the kiss turned so heated that he broke away and began trailing kisses down her neck. Hermione gasped as his hands splayed flat on her back, as though he were desperate to touch as much of her as possible. Hermione discovered that her hands were threaded through his hair, and when he nipped at a particularly sensitive spot behind her ear, she clenched her fist, drawing a low grunt from him.

"Oh! Sorry!"

He pulled back, his breathing ragged, his eyes wild in a way she'd never seen before. He looked like he was ready to drown in her, and Hermione had to force herself to keep breathing.

Draco swallowed hard. "Don't be. Please don't be sorry."

They stood there like that, his hands still hot on her back, her fingers twisted in his hair, their faces nearly touching. But he didn't kiss her again, instead, he closed his eyes and resumed his gentle caress on her back. Sweet Merlin, Morgana, and Circe, if he kept that up, she didn't know what she would do. Every brush of his thumb shot straight to her core, every whisper of breath on her still-moist lips made her shudder.

Finally, his hands moved again, up her back to her shoulders, trailing down her arms until he reached her hands. Taking them in his own, he kissed her knuckles, his eyes on fire with unabashed desire. Just when she thought her knees would surely buckle, he pressed into her space again to kiss her forehead. His lips lingered there, his breath tickling the fine hairs that had escaped her elegant updo. The smell of him, the feel of him, was intoxicating, and she wished she could exist forever in that moment.

There was nothing beyond him, beyond them, the entire universe condensed to this single stretch of minutes.

A very loud crash from inside snapped them out of their trance. Hermione shook her head as though dazed, then glanced toward the door. She had no idea what time it was or how long they'd stood like that, but in all probability, the evening was nearing its end. She should help Narcissa, be there to do whatever she could, but her feet remained firmly planted, and eventually, she turned back around.

Draco's expression was so intense her heart skipped again. "Don't go."

She blew out a long, shaky breath. "I, um. I came after you so that we could talk."

"What about?" He seemed determined not to move until he had to and instead dipped his head to kiss along her jaw.

Hermione swallowed hard, automatically reaching up to grab and hold his arms in place—not that he gave any indication of wanting to pull away any time soon. "The, uh, what you said earlier. About… about that being our only kiss."

He gave a low chuckle that snaked straight down her spine. "I remember."

"I just wanted to say that… I didn't want it to be our only kiss."

"Hmm." He returned to the spot behind her ear that had made her gasp earlier and began paying special attention to it.

Hermione whimpered and sighed, tilting her head to give him better access as her eyes fluttered closed. Was this really happening? It felt like something out of a dream, and for a moment, she worried that she'd wake up to find that she'd passed out on the dinner table, her head in a plate of Yorkshire pudding.

But then Draco was kissing her again and all thoughts flew away. How was it possible to be so affected, so weak-kneed, when all they'd done was kiss? Granted, it was a very intense, breathtaking kiss, but she was burning for him so hotly that she wasn't sure she could survive anything more.

Another loud noise from inside made her jump, and Draco chuckled, pulling away with a final tug on her lower lip.

"I suppose Mother might be wondering where we are."

Hermione could barely think or speak, but she focused on taking several steadying breaths. They hadn't moved an inch apart, only the kiss had stopped. She was still in his embrace, one of her arms around his neck, his around her waist, and she mentally cursed the inevitable passing of time which dictated that, at some point, they would be forced to end this.

She cleared her throat and stepped back. "Yes. Right. You're right. And—" Her eyes widened. "Oh! Viktor! I should… say goodnight to him."

Draco scowled. "Ah, yes. Your date."

Hermione was stunned by the vehemence in his tone. She met his eyes and smiled. "Yes, Viktor is a very old friend. I didn't want to show up alone and he agreed to escort me."

"I'm sure he did. I doubt very much he ever says no to you."

She laughed lightly. "Why, Draco, are you jealous?"

His expression was dark for a moment, but it cleared and he smirked, bringing his hand up once more to brush her lips with his thumb. "I think I've gotten over it."

Hermione shivered at his touch. Her mind was stuck, completely frozen in this place, but she knew that as soon as this—whatever it was—ended, her thoughts would spin. For now, though, she was perfectly content. "We should go. I'm going inside first to find Viktor. Wait at least five minutes before you follow?"

Draco nodded. Hermione turned to go, but he reached for her hand just as she was walking away. She looked back at him, and he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles once more. Then he sighed and let her go, as though he, too, were afraid that everything would change once they parted.

Hermione smiled at him, then returned to the ballroom. The bright lights assaulted her eyes and she squinted a moment, trying to get her bearings. Things were certainly winding down, and many of the guests had already left. Narcissa was by the door, saying goodbye to everyone. She started in that direction and was midway across the large room when she heard someone call her name.

She turned to see Viktor rushing toward her, and she wondered briefly if she looked like she'd just had the best kiss of her entire life. "Viktor." She smiled as he came near.

"Where have you been? I've been a little worried."

"Oh, I'm fine, I just stepped out for some air." Never mind that Draco had rendered her completely breathless.

He looked concerned, his eyes taking her in. "Are you feeling alright? You look a bit warm. Perhaps I should get you home."

"That's very kind, but I'll be staying to help Narcissa."

He frowned. "Help Narcissa? What does she need help with? She's got plenty of people who can help her."

Hermione's smile widened. "Viktor, really. I'm fine. I came to say goodnight to you, as I'm sure you'd like to get home, and there's no telling how long I'll be here."

Viktor glanced around at the sparse group of guests that remained. "It won't take too long. I will stay with you, that is my duty."

Of course, the one time she desperately wanted her date to leave her at a party, he refused. But Viktor had always been a perfect gentleman, and he was one of the most stubborn people she knew, so there was no point in trying to dissuade him. "All right. Let me go and see what Narcissa needs."

He nodded eagerly, and Hermione resumed her path. She arrived by Narcissa's side just as the hostess had finished bidding goodnight to the Minister of Magic himself.

"Oh, Hermione! There you are. I wanted to tell you that everything is quite in order, if you'd like to go. Viktor has been looking for you." She shook hands with another couple and waved them out the door.

"He found me. Are you sure there's nothing I can help you with?"

Narcissa shook her head. "Draco is here. And there's very little to do. Thank you again, my dear. Tonight was beautiful."

"How did the fundraising go? Are you close to having enough for the land?" Hermione joined with Narcissa in bidding the guests goodnight.

"Very close. Shouldn't be too long before we reach the goal. I thought you'd be interested to learn that your former boss made a very sizable donation." She smirked, her eyes twinkling.

"I'm glad. It was always my impression that he knew what was right but gave in to outside pressure anyway. He did seem genuinely sorry that I didn't win. Perhaps he had a change of heart." She shrugged.

Narcissa hummed thoughtfully. "He always struck me as someone who wanted to do right but had a weak will. You could be right. Maybe his donation was a way for him to ease his conscience."

Hermione pursed her lips. "I hate to say it, but I think that's a very poor reason. He can't really expect to simply give a lot of money in the hopes that all will be forgiven."

"Oh, Hermione, dear." Narcissa's smile was somewhat sad. "Sometimes that's all we can do when we know that we made terrible, impossible choices that caused irreparable harm."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "No, Narcissa! I wasn't speaking of you! I only meant—"

"Think nothing of it. I knew exactly what you meant. I only offered my perspective as someone who understands more than most about being stuck between a rock and a hard place." Narcissa gazed fondly over the dwindling crowd. "I've also come to understand the power of forgiveness, and there's no telling what his contribution, spurred by guilt, perhaps, might wrought in his heart."

Tears pricked Hermione's eyes. "Oh, Narcissa. You are so generous, and not only with your time and resources. I cannot thank you enough for everything you've done, tonight and in all the years I've known you."

Narcissa's smile brightened. "It's been my pleasure and the true joy of my life."

"I'm honored to be a small part of what you do." Hermione tried to stifle a yawn. "Oh my. I think I'm ready for a good night's sleep! Thank you, again, for tonight and for your work with the pixies."

Narcissa held out her arms and gave Hermione a quick hug. "My dear, I would do almost anything for you." Then she seemed to really look at Hermione for the first time. "Are you feeling alright? You seem flushed, and your eyes are bright. I do hope you're not getting sick."

Hermione felt her cheeks flush redder at Narcissa's appraisal. Despite her logical mind telling her there was no way the other woman could know that she'd just spent a long time snogging her son, she still felt transparent in her delight. "I'm probably just tired. It feels as though I'm still making up for sleep I missed in September. Thank you, again, for _everything._ Good night."

"Good night, dear. I do hope you get some sleep."

She wondered if Narcissa's good will would extend to her kissing Draco, but she didn't have to think about that tonight. Hermione collected Viktor and left, disappointed that she hadn't seen Draco again. Viktor left her at her door, and Hermione rushed inside, anxious to be alone with her thoughts. She shut the door and slumped against it, finally able to give her mind free reign over what had happened.

A yawn startled her, however, and she felt suddenly exhausted. She decided to get ready for bed and then think of Draco while she fell asleep. But the minute her head hit the pillow, she was already gone.

**ooo**

* * *

**Saturday, 21 OCTOBER  
**

She opened her handbag and tipped the contents onto the floor. Hermione wasn't running late, but she was still anxious to find her favorite paintbrush. If someone had told her before she'd joined her art class that she'd ever have a favorite paintbrush, she'd have enjoyed a good laugh.

It was nearly quarter after eight, and she was trying to get out the door in order to grab breakfast before meeting with her art class.

She'd had a fabulous night's sleep and awoken at half seven with a smile, stretching luxuriously in her nice, warm bed. She'd touched her fingers to her lips, thinking that less than twelve hours ago, Draco had done the same thing.

But despite feeling refreshed and completely giddy over everything—humming in the shower, and smiling without thinking about it—the morning had gone downhill fast.

When she'd tried to read the morning paper, she'd found that she couldn't concentrate. All she wanted to do was relive the previous night in her mind. And while the kiss _had_ been transcendent, it had only been a kiss. There had been no discussion, no talk of what it meant, absolutely nothing to suggest there would be occasion for a repeat. Her gut told her that it wasn't a one-time thing, but the truth was, she didn't really know what would happen next. He'd said that he wasn't with Suzanne, and she'd wanted to know more, but that was practically the last coherent thought she'd had before he touched her.

Then she'd tried to make breakfast but her thoughts kept distracting her. She'd burned her toast and dropped a glass of juice before finally deciding to get something in Diagon Alley instead. From there, she would head to her art class. Dressed in her most paint-splattered shirt and a pair of old denims, she hastily pulled her hair up in a careless bun to keep it out of her face—she certainly didn't care how she looked. Then she'd grabbed her bag with her paint supplies in it and was about to walk out the door when she remembered she'd taken the brush out of the bag in order to use it. Thus began a great search of her flat to find the brush.

After looking all over the flat for the missing brush, she finally decided to check her bag one more time, groaning when she found the brush there after all, though not in the place she normally put it. She shook her head with a laugh and returned everything to the bag. It simply wasn't her morning, but then, her thoughts weren't cooperating as they had a tendency to want to focus on the night before, on the fact that she and Draco had most definitely kissed. _He had wanted to kiss her!_

Her cheeks flushed at the thought, then she shook her head. No. She needed to get going so she wouldn't be late to her class.

Hermione grabbed her art bag and flung the door open. The sight that greeted her, however, made her stop in her tracks.

"Draco?"

He was standing just outside her door with his arm raised, as though he'd been about to knock.

He blinked in surprise, his eyes darting over her quickly. "Er, yes. Good morning."

Hermione's heart was now racing, and she cringed inwardly at her attire. Naturally, he looked as impeccably dressed as ever, which made her feel even worse. It was a Saturday, the day after a very fancy fundraiser, so why couldn't he look at least somewhat disheveled? It wasn't fair.

"What are you doing here?"

He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Well, I thought I should stop by, catch you before you tried to send any owls."

It took three seconds for her to grasp the reference; she blushed. "Oh… well, I wasn't planning on sending any owls this morning."

To the casual observer, the exchange might have sounded benign, even slightly bizarre, but for them, it was a moment of truth, each confessing something.

He visibly relaxed and shifted his weight. "That's good to hear." He glanced down at her bag. "But I can see that you're leaving."

"Yes! My art class meets at ten. We don't normally get together on Saturdays, but we're putting on a little show the first weekend in November, and since it's only two weeks away, everyone wanted some extra time in the studio."

He arched an eyebrow. "An art show?"

She shrugged, feeling a little silly. "It's nothing big, of course. Just a small gathering to show each other what we've been doing over the year. I joined the class late, but I still have some things I want to showcase."

"May I come?"

"You… want to come to my art class's show?"

"I appreciate art." He smirked, brushing his fringe away from his face.

"I don't know that I'd call it art." She smiled sheepishly.

Draco checked his watch. "It's a good bit before ten, though."

"Right. I… burned my toast, so I thought I'd grab something to eat on my way." They looked at each other for a heartbeat. "Would you like to join me?"

He instantly brightened. "Yeah, all right. I haven't eaten since dinner last night."

Hermione fully exited her flat and closed and locked the door behind her. After adjusting her bag, she started down the hall to the stairs that would take her down to Diagon Alley. She enjoyed living in the busy wizarding area, loved being a few steps from all her favorite shops.

Draco kept his hands firmly in his pockets, returning them after holding open the door for her to exit her building. She tried not to overthink that, but the truth was, she had no idea where they stood. He didn't wait but started down the street, so Hermione followed him. The street was busy with the beginnings of the day: merchants opening and setting wares outside, the delicious smells of food wafting down the street. They walked for a few minutes without speaking, Hermione's nerves growing tighter and tighter with every step.

Finally, she couldn't stand it. "Was your only reason for stopping by to intercept my owl post?"

He seemed almost surprised that she'd addressed him, frowning slightly to himself. "Oh. Well, no. I thought we should talk. About… last night."

Fear clenched inside her because surely he must regret it and that's why he showed up at her flat at a little after eight. He needed to tell her as soon as possible that it had been a mistake. "You wish it hadn't happened?"

Draco stopped abruptly, his eyes looking at her sharply. "What? No. Merlin, no." Then his voice was hesitant. "Do you?"

She let out a rushed breath. "No." He nodded and resumed walking. Hermione tried to keep up with him, but he seemed to be in a hurry. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere, I'm just… going. Nervous energy. I'm sorry." He stopped and stepped out of the general flow of people. "How about that little French bakery around the corner up ahead? They sell my favorite breakfast."

Hermione smiled. "Sure."

After another few steps, Draco sighed. "I thought this would be easy, but the truth is, I don't know what to say. I've thought about it all night—I nearly came over last night, but thought I should wait—and I had this whole speech prepared, but then as soon as I was outside your flat, everything disappeared. I must have stood there for a solid five minutes before you opened the door. I'd almost knocked three times before that, too."

"Oh, I see." She frowned slightly. "And you're not sorry it happened?"

They were ten yards from the restaurant, but he stopped again, taking hold of her arm so that she looked into his eyes. "No. I could never be sorry about it. You've no idea, you—" He dragged a hand through his hair, his gaze unfocused, scattered. "That was the best thing I've ever experienced in my life. I'm still high from it." The grin he gave her was tentative. "As I said, my thoughts have been so jumbled, it's a wonder I can string a sentence together right now. Maybe food will help."

He slid his hand down her arm until he reached her hand, then he hesitantly, carefully twined his fingers with hers. When she made no attempt to pull away, his lips quirked, and he tugged her along, resuming their walk to the restaurant. Hermione's heart was pounding furiously again, and all he'd done was hold her hand.

Draco spoke to the hostess and asked for their most private table. They were led to a spot in the corner and given menus. Neither of them spent much time with them, though, as they both knew what they wanted. Once they'd placed their orders, the awkwardness returned.

Hermione couldn't stand it any longer. "What was the final total last night?"

He let out a breath. "For the fundraiser?"

"Of course. When I left, your Mother said you were close."

Draco shrugged. "I know that I should care about that—and I do, really, but it's hard when all I can think about—no exaggeration—is that somehow, for some reason, you let me kiss you last night."

She felt heat creep across her cheeks. "Yes, um, well—"

"And I know you don't have long this morning." He sighed deeply. "Neither do I. I've got to meet Harry. We're supposed to be planning a stakeout for a case. It's our turn for one, since I was out for so long. But… I felt that I had to see you first. I'm sure a large part of it was me being slightly terrified that _you_ would regret it."

"No." It came out a whisper, though not because she was afraid to say the word. It simply felt too important to speak casually. But then, in case he hadn't heard, she repeated herself. "No, I don't regret it, Draco." Their eyes met, and she saw hope in his. "You called him Harry, by the way." She couldn't remember many times he'd done that, and never so easily or calmly.

"Did I?" He smirked.

Their food arrived, and Hermione set about preparing her tea. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Draco chuckled. "Everything. Why last night happened. What's next? What did it mean? _Everything._ How did we go from you barely tolerating my presence to… _that_ … in the space of, what, fifteen minutes?"

"What do you mean, barely tolerating your presence?" She was surprised at his phrasing. "Are you referring to me being horribly awkward around you all of this month after kissing you? I thought what happened would be unwelcome. I thought it would be a simple matter of ignoring what had happened, but the truth was, I felt so nervous around you because I could no longer pretend. Even though I'd had too much to drink, even though it was very brief, I couldn't stop thinking about what it felt like to be so close to you, and I wasn't sure I could ever forget it. It was fixed in my mind, whether I was in your presence or not."

Draco's eyes were on her, deep emotion evident in his gaze. He swallowed hard. "I had no idea you were struggling so hard. I suppose pretending I didn't care for you beyond friendship had become second-nature to me. Nevertheless, I assure you I never once suspected the true source of your difficulties. Though I did wonder."

She sighed. "I also thought you'd be upset with me. After all, you were still seeing Suzanne."

Draco shrugged, slicing his waffle, though his eyes remained intense. "Technically I was, but I ended it that day."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "You did?"

"After I kissed her, which I'd told you about, I ended up asking her out. Mainly because… I don't know, you seemed uninterested, which I'd grown accustomed to, and I needed something to take my mind off you. We went on two dates, but... It was never anything significant. More or less... a diversion. Or a distraction. I'm not terribly sure, really. But I broke it off, whatever it was, after you kissed me."

She scoffed. "I'd hardly call that a kiss."

"No." Draco grinned. "Not a proper kiss. But we corrected that last night."

Now she blushed. "Yes, quite. I felt awful when I remembered her, though, thinking you were still seeing her."

"As I said, I ended it the day you kissed me. Or, technically, the next day. When I woke up and you were gone, Pippi told me you'd been sick, so I didn't go to your flat. Instead, I went to Hogsmeade and told Suzanne I wouldn't be seeing her anymore. Then I got your owl." He gave her a pointed look.

"Oh, should I have sent it sooner? Then you wouldn't have ended things with Suzanne." She tried to sound like she was teasing, but she was unable to keep a hint of doubt out of her voice.

Draco scoffed lightly. "Haven't you been listening? Owl or no, after that night, I was determined to do whatever I had to do to make it happen again."

Hermione gaped at him for a moment. "That pathetic excuse for a kiss?"

He shook his head, his eyes a storm of emotion. "It wasn't just that. Yes, you'd briefly pressed your lips to mine, but after that, you fell asleep on me. I didn't dare move for fear you'd run away, but after a while, I realized you weren't going anywhere. I put my arms around you, I felt your chest rise and fall, heard your steady breathing. Unable to move, I watched you sleep until I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. But having you in my arms, so close like that... Nothing could stop me from trying to make it real." He chuckled. "Thinking back, I supposed I lied when I agreed to forget about what had happened. I was actually determined to do quite the opposite and not rest until I showed you that I was good for you, until I could make you _see_ me."

Hermione swallowed hard, her head spinning. "But… I thought… if you'd ever had feelings for me, that they were long over. Pansy said—"

"What did she say?" His tone was sharp, his eyes flashing.

"In February, she said she thought you and I would make a good match, and then… oh, it must have been July, she said she thought you liked me." He opened his mouth to speak but she held up her hand. "I insisted she was wrong because you'd been distancing yourself from me for months by then!"

"Because you'd made it very clear that you weren't interested! You were dating Marcus, what was I supposed to do?"

She let her jaw drop. "Oh, I don't know, how about you _talk_ to me? You never once indicated any sort of feelings for me; was I supposed to read your thoughts? After Pansy's comments in February, I looked and didn't see anything to suggest she'd been right."

He clenched his jaw and bit out a response. "I asked you out!"

Hermione's eyes flew wide and she barked a laugh. "What? Where was I? I think I'd have remembered—"

"January's fundraiser! The one you backed out of but then showed up at my flat anyway, ready to go. It was clear, however, from everything you said that you didn't realize I'd asked you out—"

"Because you didn't! You said, and I quote, 'Maybe we could go together!' That's hardly the way you ask someone on a date!" She cringed slightly, realizing that their voices were slightly raised. A quick glance around them showed nobody seemed to be paying much attention. But her heart was pounding, her blood racing, and she was breathing heavily over the ridiculous argument they were having.

Draco was staring at her, though, in a way that made her cheeks flush. "Merlin, you're beautiful."

She was caught off guard at his seemingly easy compliment, but then, he'd said as much to her in the past—though she'd never taken it to heart. The way he said it now was… the same, yet very different.

He dragged a hand through his hair and regarded her with clear admiration. "Perhaps I was… hesitant to put my true intentions before you. No one has ever accused me of being especially brave. It's possible I might have worded my request in such a way that, should you not reciprocate my feelings, I could escape with my pride—and our friendship—intact."

Hermione shook her head, feeling her pulse begin to settle. "I had no idea, Draco. I thought you only wanted me to go with you to further the Foundation's efforts."

He sighed heavily. "I know. But when you told me you couldn't attend with me, I lost any kind of confidence I had managed to muster. I figured I had my answer, that you thinking of me in that way was so far removed from reality that there was no point in attempting anything further."

She started to say something but happened to notice a clock on the wall over his head which told her that she had less than five minutes to get to her art session on time. "Oh, Draco, I hate this, but I have to go. I really can't miss it. But I don't want to leave."

"It's all right. We've plenty of time." He gave her a tired smile. "I assure you, I've no intention of letting anything come between us now."

Hermione stood, feeling frustrated and anxious. "What about later today?"

He shook his head. "I don't know how long I'll be working with Potter."

"Tomorrow? When is your stakeout?" It felt extremely important that they be allowed to continue this conversation as soon as possible. There was a sense of urgency she couldn't shake, though she didn't know why.

Draco chuckled as he threw some gold coins onto the table. "Hermione, I'm not going anywhere. Wild thestrals couldn't keep me away from you. Our stakeout should happen tomorrow afternoon, if all goes according to plan, but there's no way to know when it will end. It's been awhile since we've done one. Could be a few days. I'll owl you as soon as it's over."

Hermione sighed as they left the café. "All right. I'll be here. I've nothing much to do. Oh, wait, that's not quite true. Now that the fundraiser is over, I'm completely at Pansy's disposal for wedding preparations."

He groaned. "I don't envy you there. Where's your class? I'll walk you."

"Down a side street." She pointed vaguely in the direction she needed to go and slung her bag over her shoulder as she started walking, letting her hand hang loosely at her side. He'd taken her hand before; she hoped that he would again.

But he didn't, instead tucking his hands into his pockets. "I'd like to come to the show, if it's possible."

Hermione felt a nervous flutter in her gut. It was one thing for him to care for her—fancy her, she thought giddily—but another to want to join her on such a mundane, common part of her life so quickly. She hadn't let anyone else see her art yet, and she was a little hesitant that he might be the first. She wasn't even sure what was going on between them, other than wanting to snog him again—as soon as possible and for as long as he'd let her.

"I'll find out about bringing guests. But, honestly, Draco, one of the students is a recent graduate of Hogwarts who wants to proudly display a painting of his grandfather's nose—in elaborate detail. It's all just for fun… not the quality you're used to, I'm sure." She was torn between wanting him to go and fear he'd think everything about their show was ridiculous.

Draco chuckled. "I've seen plenty of art shows, Hermione. Don't worry. I don't even mind seeing a portrait of some old codger's nose if it means I get to see it with you."

Since the walk was short, they reached it in only a few minutes. "Well, here we are." He hadn't held her hand, so she didn't expect him to kiss her, but she desperately wanted him to—even just a small peck. She had the promise of a future conversation, but she felt extremely untethered, their intense kiss on one hand, and very little understanding of where they stood or where to go from here on the other.

He glanced around, his gaze falling on her. "I think it would be best to keep this quiet for now. I probably shouldn't have held your hand earlier, but I haven't noticed anybody who might make something out of seeing us together. I'm not sure if I'm quite ready for everything that's going to happen when the press gets wind of us."

Her heart thrilled at the casual way he said 'us,' and she managed a small smile. "Us?"

His gaze snapped to hers. "Unless you'd rather not…"

"No!" she rushed out. "I mean, I do want an… us. At least, the hope of us, for right now. I know there's so much to talk about, things to consider, and—"

"I think there's more between us than hope, Hermione." He smiled at her, a real smile, almost as brilliant and easy as the one she'd seen in July.

"Yes, I… quite agree." She felt slightly breathless.

Draco seemed to inch forward, as though he wanted to step closer, but he glanced sideways at the window of the studio and stopped. "I'll owl you as soon as we're back."

"All right. Say hi to Harry for me." She gave him a small wave and entered the studio.

**ooo**

* * *

**Tuesday, 24 OCTOBER**

_Hermione,_

_It's just after one and we've arrived back at the Ministry. Potter and I have an hour or two ahead of us, filling out this report, but after that, we're done for the day. However, I'm exhausted and plan to get a nap in as soon as possible. I want nothing more than to dash over there and continue arguing about our feelings, but I'm afraid it will have to wait a bit._

_Are you available tonight? I know it's short notice. If not, when are you free next?_

_I've instructed my owl to wait for your reply._

_Draco_

The note arrived while Hermione was deep in conversation with Pansy about the color of the bridesmaid dresses. Pansy had brought six samples of fabric to show her, and despite Hermione giving her opinion in the first five minutes, Pansy had since spent an hour and a half debating, shining different lights at them, and generally acting as though the continued existence of the earth depended on her choosing the right shade of fabric.

Hermione had gone through two cups of tea and had just put the kettle on for a third when the owl arrived. Pansy was absorbed in her latest conundrum, so Hermione was able to read the note without Pansy nosing in.

She quickly responded, telling him she was at Pansy's disposal for the rest of the day but was free the following night, plus Friday evening, and sent the owl away. She smiled as she watched the owl disappear, then returned to the kitchen to fix her tea.

Pansy held up a swatch—the one Hermione had said was the best—with a triumphant expression on her face. "I'll go with this one."

"Fantastic. Now all you have to do is pick a dress."

Hermione shook her head. She adored Pansy, but the woman had no ability to make a quick decision—except, apparently, that Ron was the man she wanted to marry. It hadn't taken her long at all to reach that conclusion.

Pansy sighed and gathered the swatches into her large handbag. "Speaking of that, I've made an appointment for this afternoon at a dress shop. It's at two, so we'd better grab something to eat quickly or we'll be late."

Hermione took a deep breath to fortify herself. When she'd agreed to help Pansy with all that, it hadn't mattered, because that had been _before_ Draco. Now, though, she wanted to drop everything and be with him, though of course it was ridiculous to expect to spend all of her free time with him. What they had was new, fragile, and the last thing she wanted to do was rush things.

"That sounds lovely, Pansy. And after the dress shop?" Maybe she could free herself up to see Draco after all.

"We've an appointment with the florist, then the stationery shop, a quick stop at the venue to go over a few menu things… Oh, and we're meeting Ron and Harry for dinner."

"All right then." Hermione sighed. "Let's get going, I'm actually rather hungry."

Pansy slung her bag on her arm and picked up her sunglasses. "I am as well." Hermione took the tea things to the kitchen, and Pansy followed, leaning against the doorframe. "Was that Draco's owl?"

Hermione blinked, careful not to let the dishes fall. "What?"

"The owl that came for you. Just a few minutes ago." Pansy folded her arms across her chest. "Don't play dumb."

"That came from the Ministry." Hermione quickly washed her hands, turning away to dry them in order to hide the slight heat that had crept onto her cheeks.

Pansy tapped her foot. "It _looked_ like Draco's."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He isn't the only person in England to have that breed of owl, Pansy."

She regarded Hermione for a second longer, then gave a slight huff. "Fine, keep your secrets. But let's go."

**ooo**

When she got home that night, Hermione had an owl waiting for her. It was the same one from earlier, and her heart quickened as she let the bird inside. It ruffled its feathers indignantly, as though annoyed at being kept waiting for so long, but Hermione gave him a few treats, which seemed to pacify him.

The note was from Draco.

_Hermione,_

_I've got a meeting with the Foundation Board tomorrow night, and Friday night Mother and I are dining out. What about next week? I've got Monday and Tuesday open._

_Draco_

\---ooo---ooo---ooo---

_Draco,_

_This is funny, but not funny. Tuesday is my regular art class time, but my instructor wants us to come Monday as well—probably most nights next week. Is Sunday during the day out of the question?_

_Hermione_

\---ooo---ooo---ooo---

_Hermione,_

_I'm laughing. Really hard. Sunday is out of the question, I'm afraid. I have a regular meet up with friends from school, and we are not allowed to miss it for anything less than dismemberment or some such severe injury or illness. Even in death, we're supposed to attend, though playing cards would be much harder._

_I've got a meeting this Thursday with the Board of Directors of Malfoy Industries—yes, I'm still in charge of that during my father's extended absence in Azkaban—and those always run quite late, due to the fact that I schedule them as infrequently as possible. They're planned out months in advance, and I simply cannot change it. However, I could see about slipping out early; I'll have to let you know but of course I won't know until it's done. If you don't hear from me by eight, I'm still there._

_The end of October is a busy time for me, business-wise. I can't stand the thought of not seeing you until November, however. Let me know if anything changes._

_Draco_

\---ooo---ooo---ooo---

_Draco,_

_I find it endlessly ironic that I've made such an effort to clear my schedule this year, to be available for things that come up, things that I truly want to do, only to be stymied now by_ your _schedule! And mine, I suppose. Things just tend to creep onto the calendar, don't they? I'm not worried—much. I'll leave all of November open, just in case. It's too bad you have a job and I don't—my days are wide open._

_Hermione_

**ooo**

* * *

**Friday, 27 OCTOBER**

Hermione missed her regular Friday lunches with Harry so she was thrilled to get his owl, asking her to meet him in Diagon Alley to repeat their tradition. She was at the appointed café in plenty of time, reading a book when Harry arrived.

He took the seat opposite her. "Hey, Hermione."

Something in his voice made her look up. He was grinning widely, almost frighteningly so.

She set her book down with some trepidation. "Hi, Harry. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fabulous, thanks for asking. Ginny sends her love. She wants to have dinner with you and Pansy again very soon. As soon as possible, actually." He leaned back in the chair, giving her such a triumphant look that she felt immediately self-conscious.

"You're acting strange." She picked up a menu to give her something to do. "Let's order."

"Yes. Let's." He peered at his menu for a few seconds, then set it down on the table. "I've decided." Then he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "What I want to know, Hermione, is how _you're_ doing."

She blinked. "I'm... fine?"

"Yeah? Do anything... interesting lately? Anything... new?"

Hermione knew immediately that Harry knew about Draco, and the only way that could be true was if Draco had told him. _Hmm_.

She gave him a pointed look. "Out with it."

Harry shrugged. "Oh, it's nothing, I'm sure. My partner has been in... unusually good spirits this week. I wondered if you knew anything about that."

So Draco hadn't told Harry, but her friend suspected something anyway. "Why would you think I would know anything?"

Harry didn't quite answer her question. "Even on our stakeout! He reheated my coffee for me, and I didn't have to ask! Usually it takes an act of Merlin to get him to lift a finger for me, but not lately." Harry grinned. "He was even humming yesterday. _Humming._ Draco Malfoy. But, if you're not going to tell me..."

"I suggest you ask him. Seems the most logical course of action." She hoped he wasn't going to needle her all through lunch; she'd leave as soon as possible if he didn't let up soon. She and Draco had agreed not to say anything yet, so why did Harry have to start prying almost immediately?

"Oh, trust me, I have. He just scowls and tells me to bugger off. But I know him, see. Better than most."

She smiled. "What did you say to him when he warmed your coffee?"

Harry's smug expression faltered. "Oh, uh, well, I said he was acting so nice to me, he must have gotten laid. Asked him who would be so desperate. I'd only meant it as a joke, but he didn't like that. Did you know he has the most powerful Stinging Hex of anyone I've ever encountered?" He rubbed a spot on his chest with a grimace. "I still feel it twinge if I accidentally brush it."

"Serves you right. As I recall, he's been England's sexiest bachelor three years running. Ginny told me that, actually." She loved seeing the way Harry's face contorted. "I highly doubt he'd ever be desperate for companionship."

Her words made her insides twist uncomfortably. It was true: he was highly sought after, though famously elusive. Any whispers of his social life were greatly prized. He'd weathered his single date with Astoria and ignored the speculation surrounding the multiple sightings with various women as he traveled around the world. When the press at large got wind of the two of them... She shuddered. It would be chaos, more so than her breakup with Ron years before, more even than the interest Ron and Pansy had drawn.

"–but then his face turned blue and he screamed like a chicken."

"What?" Her gaze snapped to his.

Harry laughed and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Nothing. You were clearly somewhere else. Although it didn't seem like somewhere especially enjoyable. Want to share?"

"Just thinking about how involved the media likes to be in our lives. Do you think they'll ever not be interested in us?"

Harry shook his head. "No. But if you keep your head down and go about your life, there won't be much to report on." Then he grinned widely. "Unless you're planning to announce a highly controversial relationship to the world?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No plans to do that."

He faltered again. "You would... tell me, right? If there was something to tell?"

"What are you on about? Honestly, you're being very vague." She hated not telling him, but it would have to wait. A few other people deserved to know first.

Harry's shoulders slumped slightly. "I suppose his good mood could have another cause. But I thought for sure..."

"Why don't you ask him?" Draco could deal with Harry's questions. "I want to hear about Eloise! How is life with two? I bet James adores her."

"Most of the time he does. But the other day..."

Harry regaled her with tale after tale of his children, and she listened happily. She didn't know when she'd see Draco again, but she felt sure that it wouldn't be too much longer. Until then, she would fend off Harry's questions and help Pansy choose the perfect bridesmaids dress. She knew that would be a feat worthy of Merlin himself.

**ooo**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot believe there are only two months left in this story. I seriously wondered, when I began this in January, if I'd really be able to do this. The very stubborn part of me refused to consider NOT finishing, but a year is a very long time and so much has happened this year. But, here we are, nearing the end. I can't wait for this to be complete. I hope you've enjoyed this, and I cannot adequately express my thanks for everyone who has faithfully read this all year. I KNOW a year is a long time for a story! It's an eternity in the fandom world. And you have my eternal thanks.


	11. November

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are questions, Hermione goes on a date, and a plan is hatched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is being written for Dramione FanFiction Writers 2020 Challenge. This month, we were given the task of using a randomly generated story title and writing something that fit. WELL. That didn't work for my premise, but I was able to use it in the chapter, in a way. Thanks to my lovely and wonderful beta dreamsofdramione for the suggestion! My randomly generated title, I kid you not, was "Love, Eternal." 
> 
> Beta thanks go to dormiensa and dreamsofdramione, who also helped with alpha stuff and is also just generally awesome. Beautiful graphic made by dreamsofdramione also!
> 
> **PLEASE NOTE:** this chapter is LONG. Feel free to take breaks. But it all needed to be said. :)
> 
>   
> 

**Wednesday, 1 NOVEMBER**

Hermione smiled. At the end of October, she had taken care to keep November as clear as possible, and now, as she looked at her planner with a note from Draco on the table beside it, that effort had paid off.

—-ooo—-ooo—-ooo—-

_Hermione_ ,

_I know your days are generally free, and I've managed it so that I could get Friday off work, if you're available. Potter owes me. I'd like to take you to see the forest where the pixies will be relocating. I also thought it would be a good opportunity to finish our conversation. Let me know if it would work for you._

_Draco_

—-ooo—-ooo—-ooo—-

She'd already sent off her reply, affirming that she could, indeed, join him on Friday. She wasn't quite sure what to make of the invitation. Was it a date? He hadn't specifically said that it was, but then, he had asked her to join him to go somewhere together. On the other hand, he hadn't said anything about food, and food was typically part of most dates—especially at the beginning of a relationship. She hadn't asked about the nature of the request but now she wished she had.

When Draco's return owl arrived later that day, tied to its leg was a Portkey and a note telling her that it would activate at ten in the morning and she should dress warmly.

She spent the better part of two hours trying to read between the lines of his first message before giving up and simply owling him to ask.

His response came as she was sitting down to dinner.

—-ooo—-ooo—-ooo—-

_Hermione,_

_This is not a date. This is a Foundation-related outing where we also get to talk and spend time together without any pressure._

_When I take you out for our first date, it won't be trudging through a forest to examine the state of the trees._

_You will know when I ask you on a date._

_Draco_

—-ooo—-ooo—-ooo—-

A thrill of something shot through her at the commanding tone of his last line. Hermione sat up tall and wrote 'pixies' on her calendar for Friday.

* * *

**Friday, 3 NOVEMBER**

The day dawned bright and clear, and Hermione felt a swoop in her gut as the realization of what the day would hold jolted into her mind. An entire day with Draco, exploring the new forest where the pixies would settle, no definitive plans for what would happen _after_ that…

At precisely ten, Hermione was transported by the Portkey to somewhere else in England, presumably somewhere toward the north of the country. The pixies current home was in Brecon Beacons National Park, hidden by hundreds of Muggle repelling charms. It was beautiful. From what she'd heard from Narcissa, however, their new home would be even more lovely, and she was excited to learn where Draco had found for them to go.

The landing was a little rough, as the ground wasn't entirely firm. Hermione opened her eyes and found herself surrounded by dense woods. She should have expected to wind up somewhere like this, but beyond making sure she'd dressed warmly, she'd wanted everything about the day to be a surprise, so she hadn't spent any time speculating on where Draco might take her.

She spun in place, admiring the views around her, until she heard the sound of another Portkey arrival. Turning toward that sound, she smiled warmly, expecting to see Draco similarly dressed in thick robes, warm boots, a hat, a scarf, and gloves.

Her smile faltered slightly upon seeing that someone was with him.

"Hermione!" Narcissa beamed at her and took two steps toward her, taking her hands and giving them a squeeze. "I'm so pleased you could join us today."

Draco's mother then released her and made her own observation of the woods. She was dressed perfectly for the occasion, in beautiful, light blue winter robes with a fashionable, yet warm, outer cloak. Her pale blonde hair hung down her back, with a white, incredibly soft-looking scarf wrapped around her neck.

Hermione glanced at Draco and found him watching her, his brow furrowed and an apologetic look on his face. She gave him a small smile, then answered his mother.

"I'm thrilled to see the place as well. Have you been here before?"

Narcissa shook her head. "No. I've seen a few photos Draco took, but they couldn't possibly do justice to the beauty of it. Where are we, son?"

Draco cleared his throat and came to stand between them. "We're in a particularly dense section of Scots pines. This is to be the heart of the new settlement. I've been here with the pixies, a small delegation, anyway, that included the Pixie Queen. She was most pleased with the spot and said that it's even better than what they're used to."

"It's breathtaking!" Hermione peered up the nearest tree.

"This area isn't frequented by Muggles, though of course we'll still put up the standard Muggle-repellant charms." He pulled out his wand and muttered, "Point Me." It spun slightly on his palm, pointing to his right. He tucked it away and started in that direction. "There's a creek not too far from here, within the bounds of land we procured."

"What is this forest?" Hermione did her best to stay in his wake. "Surely it wasn't for sale."

Draco shook his head. "No, this is Abernathy Forest, in a National Park. It's not terribly far from Hogwarts, actually. We're near the Cairngorms mountains, which I know I've seen from the air on my broom. This area, where the pixies will move, is big enough to completely resettle, and there's plenty of room for expansion."

The quiet of the forest was mesmerizing. It was a still day with barely any wind. There were birds and squirrels, but there was no sound of any kind of civilization; it reminded her of Hogwarts in the wintertime. She sent Draco a warm smile, only to find Narcissa's gaze on her. Hermione quickly glanced away, pretending to be looking intently at something in the distance.

"Draco, dear, where are we going?"

"Just a little bit farther, Mother." He pushed his way through some thick underbrush and they came out in a small clearing. Draco pulled out his wand, and with a few waves, a small seating area was set up with three chairs and a low table.

Narcissa looked at him expectantly. "Is this everything?"

Draco frowned. "I'm not sure what you mean."

With a tut, Narcissa called for Pippi, who appeared almost instantly. "Yes, Mistress?"

"Pippi, be a dear and bring us something to eat."

Pippi nodded and disappeared.

Draco gave his mother a slightly perturbed look. "This isn't supposed to be anything big, Mother. I'd wanted to show Hermione the land, since she worked so hard fighting for the pixies."

Narcissa arched an eyebrow. "And why wouldn't you want your mother to see it as well? This is a matter for the Malfoy Foundation, is it not?"

"Yes, of course, which is why you're here." Draco sat heavily in one of the chairs.

It looked as though she might say more, but then Pippi returned and completely covered the table with food and a full tea service. Hermione held in a sigh as she stole a glance at Draco. It wasn't even a meal time, but she wasn't going to argue with Narcissa.

The woman thanked the elf and set about preparing the tea, taking the seat beside Draco and leaving Hermione with the one opposite him. This was fine, of course; as soon as Hermione saw Narcissa, she knew this day wouldn't be anything like what she'd hoped. Still, she had to beat down a fresh wave of disappointment.

When Narcissa had finished with the tea and made herself a plate, she smiled. "Now, Draco, darling. What were you saying?"

He clapped his hands on the armrests of his chair and pushed himself to his feet. "It's just a small demonstration I put together with a little help." He pointed his wand back in the direction they'd come from and muttered something Hermione couldn't hear. A beam of blue-white light shot from the end of his wand and traveled until it seemed to hit something. Then the light shot out from the point of contact, creating what looked like a shield around them. The wall of light spread around them, so far away in some places they could only see a slight shimmer, even farther in others that they couldn't see it at all. Above them was a slightly shimmery dome.

"This is the boundary of the pixie territory here in the forest." Draco pointed into the woods. "The creek, as I said before, is that way, and there's plenty of water there for all their needs." He flicked his wand, and similar to the wall of light surrounding them, a beam of yellow-white light began to form the outlines of what looked like small buildings, hidden among the trees.

Hermione gasped as she watched what looked like an entire community being formed from light before her eyes. It was beautiful. Once the structures were complete, Draco sent a green-white beam out, highlighting what looked like gardens and cultivated green spaces. Then, finally, he added a jet of red-white light, which added additional structures and community spaces.

"The yellow indicates their plans for rebuilding what they're being forced to leave behind. The green areas are where they'll grow their food and plant certain things that they need or want. The red outlines show their plans for the expansion of their community. It looks as though, despite how wrong the Ministry is for what they've done, the pixies will benefit, in the end, from the removal."

"That's wonderful, Draco!" Narcissa beamed at him. "Isn't it wonderful, Hermione?"

She nodded, genuinely in awe of all the work Draco had done. "Yes, it is. This is beautiful, Draco!"

"Now, beyond keeping Muggles away, what's been done to actually secure the land?" Narcissa asked.

Draco sat down and put a single biscuit on a plate. "This land is part of a National Park here in England. As such, the government owns it. We sent a representative to the Other Minister to inform him of what we're doing and assure him that it won't affect his life in the slightest. He agreed, after a bit of hesitation, but he only needed convincing that the pixies were part of nature, that they wouldn't harm the forest or the National Park in any way. So that's sorted. We agreed to pay them a yearly fee, kind of like a rental fee, only we paid for a hundred years in one go, so it'll be a long time before we'll need to give them any more."

"When is the move scheduled for?" It was Hermione's first question, and she met Draco's eyes for the first time since their arrival.

"I believe Caerphilly is hoping to break ground in the new year. The Pixie Queen is planning to move much sooner than that, however. I believe by the first of December, they'll be completely cleared out. Now that all the paperwork is done and the money paid, we'll get a team of wizards and witches out her to set up the wards and charms and the like. They want to be well in before the Solstice."

Narcissa smiled at Hermione, a bright, surprised smile, and she took a sip of tea before setting her cup down. "It would seem, based on my observations over the last month, that you two have made friends again?"

Hermione immediately looked away, down at her plate. She could feel her cheeks flush and didn't dare look Draco's way.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mother." She could hear the note of annoyance in his tone.

"Come now, son." Narcissa tutted. "I've been around the two of you a lot lately, and you could have sliced the tension with a butter knife. That all seems to be gone now." She glanced around the small wooded area. "Or perhaps it's only because we're outside."

"There was no tension," Draco said quietly, softly. "If anything, there was a misunderstanding on my part, but I suppose we've cleared that up—though it was hardly anything worth mentioning."

Hermione peeked up at him through her lashes, then turned to Narcissa. "Draco's too kind. But it was the simple matter of a conversation to clear the air." She forced a smile that she knew was apprehensive. "Everything is fine."

Narcissa looked skeptical as she glanced between them for a moment. Then she shrugged. "If you say so. All that matters is that things can get back to normal. I need you both to help me with January's fundraiser. I want to top this year's so I'll need you both to be able to work together. The Foundation, the work we do for the wizarding community, is more important than whatever disagreements you two might have."

Hermione pursed her lips but said nothing.

"Mother, Hermione and I are adults, and we won't let anything interfere with the work we do for the Foundation."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that. I wouldn't want _anything_ to come between you two that might jeopardize our efforts."

It was hard not to squirm in her seat, but Hermione managed. The last thing she wanted was to upset Narcissa, and she knew that she and Draco needed to tread delicately when it came time to make their relationship known. She glanced at him and found him frowning.

"There's nothing to worry about, Mother. I assure you. Now, let's continue discussing the pixies, shall we?" Draco then proceeded to talk at length about the future of the community. Hermione was surprised at the level of information he was going into, describing every interaction in minute detail, discussing the pros and cons and every decision with painstaking clarity. She was more or less a spectator in this bizarre conversation between him and his mother.

Every time Hermione thought Narcissa would surely stop asking questions, the woman managed to find something that needed further exploration and discussion, to the point that, after an hour and a half, Hermione found herself not paying any attention whatsoever. Her thoughts drifted to her own future, what was coming next for her since she had yet to find a job. She hadn't spent any time before the last fundraiser looking for something, and since then, she'd been rather distracted with other things. Most of her time had been spent with Pansy or at The Burrow, helping Mrs. Weasley with wedding preparations.

Then, of course, there was the matter of sorting out her wild and tangled thoughts about Draco. Since kissing him and finding herself somehow in a relationship with him, a brand new, fresh, exciting, unexpected chapter of her life had opened up before her. She had a list—an actual, physical list—of questions for him about things that had happened over the course of the year, mysteries she hoped he could solve.

Hermione jumped when Narcissa clapped her hands.

"That's wonderful, Draco. Thank you for taking the time to so thoroughly address my concerns."

He frowned. "I'm happy to do it, of course, but I fail to see why you couldn't have asked me… oh, any time since the fundraiser."

Narcissa waved dismissively. "When you put up the plans for the space, I suddenly found myself with dozens of questions. Forgive me. Shall we walk the perimeter now?"

Draco's eyes went wide. "What?"

Narcissa stood and brushed off her robes. "I think we should see everything there is to see. Unlike many of our projects, this one is very long term. I want to know all there is to know, including what the land looks like, how close it comes to Muggles, and what prominent hills and views are available here. It looks as though the community will comprise only a portion of the land. I'd like to see it all."

For a moment, it looked like he might protest, but then he sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. "Of course, Mother. Follow me."

She took a step, then stopped. "Unless, of course, you two had something else in mind?"

Hermione slid her gaze over to him, their eyes meeting briefly.

"No, this is exactly what I'd planned. Seeing the land." He motioned for her to follow. "I'll be sure to clear a path as we go."

Hermione brought up the rear of their little expedition, trying to make the best of the day. The forest was breathtaking, with beautiful views all around her. Draco had truly chosen a magical spot for the pixies' new home, far nicer than their current one. She tried not to think too much about how much better things were going to be for the pixies now; it would make her feel that she had wasted her time trying to save their community. But no matter what, even though this new home would be nicer, it would be new, and it was _still_ completely abhorrent for the Ministry to break their treaty, all for the sake of a Quidditch stadium. It was solely a commercial exchange, nothing more, and that was the most disappointing thing of all.

The walk took another hour, then they arrived back at their makeshift seating area. Narcissa insisted on more food, and Hermione wanted to leave. She hadn't been able to say more than a few words to Draco, since his mother had managed to find more and more questions to ask along the way. Not to mention, she had a lot of opinions on how things might be done: how the pixies might use this part of their land, or that stretch of creek.

All in all, it was an exhausting outing, and all she could think about, as she sat and suffered through another small meal, was that she couldn't wait to get home and get into the tub. She would soak the stress and disappointment away. Her thoughts were drifting again when she heard the rustle of Narcissa's robes.

She had stood and was brushing herself off. Draco stood as well, though Hermione saw that he hadn't finished his food.

"Well, thank you again for the tour, Draco." She put her hand on his cheek, a tender look in her eyes. "I can't tell you how very proud of you I am. The work you've put into this… it's truly fantastic. I'm so pleased that you're such an integral part of the work of the Foundation."

Then Narcissa stepped around the coffee table, and Hermione stood as well, not quite knowing what else to do. "And Hermione. Without you, none of this would have happened. I'm ever so thankful that you're part of this organization. You have been a true friend through all of this, especially over the last year or so." Narcissa squeezed Hermione's hand. "As lovely as this has been, it's time for me to go. I've got an appointment this afternoon. Hermione, I will be in touch about tea very soon." Narcissa's smile was bright, her eyes dancing with the barest hint of mischief. She gave Draco a brief look, then Disapparated.

Hermione looked at him, still somewhat in shock at how abruptly her fortunes had turned.

He let out a long breath and dragged a hand through his hair. Then he turned to her. "I'm so sorry. I never intended for her to join us, but she saw me leaving, and when I told her where I was going, never dreaming she'd want to come, she just… came."

"That's all right." Hermione smiled. "As much as I adore your mother, I was disappointed to see her. I'm surprised she left us, honestly. I had resigned myself to not getting any time with you today."

He chuckled. "I'm not quite sure what she was doing. But at least it's over and we can talk a little. I've nowhere else to be."

"Yes, we were supposed to continue our conversation from a few weeks ago. I do need to be home this evening. We're supposed to meet at the studio to get everything finalized for tomorrow's show." She bit her lip, somewhat regretting mentioning it. She had kind of hoped he'd forgotten about it.

But his eyes widened with mirth. "Yes I will be there at ten sharp."

"If you insist." Hermione rolled her eyes.

They'd been standing in the clearing exactly where they were when Narcissa left, but now Draco walked toward her, casually, and yet she felt immediately on edge. He stopped just before her, hands in his pockets, a slight smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

"Hello, Hermione." His tone was deep, soft, and she heard all manner of intent in his simple greeting.

"Hi, Draco."

He took a hand from his pocket, stepped closer, deep into her personal space, and lifted it to her cheek. For a moment, he lightly rubbed her skin with his thumb before tipping his head down to kiss her. It was different from their first kiss, light and unhurried, more like a very long greeting. It ended far too soon, Draco pulling back with a smile on his face. "I suppose we've got some time now. Shall we sit? We can talk, the way we had wanted to."

Hermione nodded, and they returned to their seats. Before sitting, however, Hermione adjusted her chair, stretching it wide so that they could both sit down on it. Draco grinned and joined her, pulling her down to sit close and slinging his arm on the back of the chair.

For a moment, she didn't know what to say. She'd never sat so close to him, yet here she was, tucked into his side like she belonged there, like she'd done it a hundred times before. He seemed quite at ease, as well.

When neither spoke, Draco leaned forward and took another scone. "Don't want this to go to waste."

"No, absolutely not." She smiled at him, his proximity making her heart race. She wanted to talk to him about everything, but just now, she was finding it difficult to focus. "I think I'll make some more tea."

She sat forward on the edge of the chair and forced herself to go slowly, to take her time, both with the tea and with him. They needed to clear the air on some things, and it was important to do it right. He was too important to her to risk rushing things and making a mess.

Once the tea was ready, she scooted away from him enough to maneuver and drink her tea without feeling crowded. He then made himself another cup, and when his was ready, she spoke. "I have a list of questions."

Draco burst out with a laugh as he settled back into his corner of the wide chair. "That doesn't surprise me in the least."

"It's just that, there's so much I want to know, and I didn't want to forget anything." She pulled the worn parchment from an inside pocket and unfolded it, gently pressing it flat. The questions weren't listed in any particular order, but she knew where she wanted to start. "Last time we were together, you told me that, after you'd asked me out for the fundraiser and I hadn't understood, that you didn't do anything else. You'd lost confidence and didn't want to try again."

He nodded patiently. "That's right."

"Well, I just wondered… I've been curious about…" She bit her lip. "About Valentine's Day?"

At first, he frowned slightly, then chuckled when he understood. "You mean, George Weasley's speed dating event?"

"Yes. I was surprised to see you there."

Draco sighed and shrugged. "I felt pretty defeated after the fundraiser business, but when I heard that you were going—I think Potter mentioned it—I asked George for more information. He told me the basic structure and how he was running it: specifically, that each person would submit the numbers of the people they were interested in, and only the women would know who had indicated interest in them. I thought it was a safe way to gauge your interest while preserving my own identity. If you wrote my number down, then you'd learn I'd put yours down. If not, you wouldn't have a clue."

"You only put my number down, right?"

"I was only there for you, yes."

Hermione sighed. "And I had no idea. I wasn't thinking of you that way then, Draco. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry." His tone was harder than she expected. "I mean it. We're here now, together, and that's what matters. The path we took was important, I believe. What if you'd found out about my feelings before you were ready? Nothing might have happened."

"That's true. Pansy didn't mention her theory until the end of the month. It's funny, because I'd only ever considered you a friend; my mind had never wondered about anything more."

"I understand. We'd been friends for a while. I was surprised to find myself attracted to you, and I never would have imagined you'd feel the same way." He sipped from his cup. "It's the main reason why I never said anything. And it sounds like that was wise."

Hermione finished her tea and set the cup and saucer back on the table. "Well, for better or worse, Pansy's words stuck with me, and I couldn't help but think about you. I kept doing my very best _not_ to think of you, and so naturally, that was all I could do."

"When you told me, that day in March, that you'd contacted all the people you'd been matched with from George's event… It felt like a punch in the gut. It wasn't unexpected, but it still stung."

"Oh! I remember that day! We had to find another venue for the April event!" She distinctly remembered the wonderful time she'd spent with him at the gardens. How foolish she'd been at the time to think it was perfectly natural for them as friends. "We ended up pretending we were getting married."

"Yes, I remember that part well." Draco chuckled and finished his tea. "I had this absurd notion that if I treated you that way, as though you and I were in love, you'd finally notice me. I didn't want that day to end."

"I didn't either, honestly. I should have realized something then."

He gave her a sharp look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, there was nobody else I would have been content to spend the rest of the day with like that. We had a task to complete, and when it was done, the logical thing would have been to go our separate ways. But I'd had such a good time with you all day that I didn't want it to end. I've never experienced that with any of my friends." She smiled. "Only you."

His expression was stoic. "That was March. If you didn't catch on then, when did you?"

Hermione groaned. "I should have known then, but I thought that my change in thinking toward you was related to what Pansy had said. That it was simply me working through what she'd said and the heightened awareness for you that it necessitated. Instead, it was genuine attraction, but I didn't see it for what it was until the fundraiser in April. When…" She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "When I saw you that night, with Astoria on your arm… That's when I knew. It was a violent realization. I felt like all the wind had been sucked out of the room, like everything around us became muted, like the world had collapsed until all I could see was you—with her."

Draco looked down at his hands, folded in his lap. "Really. That night?"

She nodded, smiling apologetically. "It's like seeing you with someone else made me realize that the extraordinary feelings I had for you went beyond friendship."

"Well, I suppose it's nice to hear that _some_ good came out of that mess with Astoria."

"But realizing it, acknowledging it, admitting it to myself…" She sighed. "It didn't change anything."

Draco turned toward her. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I thought you were _with_ her. Your mother had told me about Astoria in February, when she came to the hospital for the children's event. She'd said that Astoria was enamored of you, and it was obvious then when I saw her with you. She came alive." Hermione shrugged. "I assumed that, since you'd asked her out, knowing her feelings, that it meant you were serious about her."

"Which wasn't the case. But then before I knew it, you were dating Marcus."

Hermione cringed and dropped her head into her hands. "I know. I met Marcus in March, and we hit it off. He asked me out, and I said yes. Then, after the fundraiser and thinking you were _with_ Astoria, I saw no point in exploring what I'd realized. Pansy had clearly been wrong in thinking there could be something between us, because surely you'd have asked me if you'd wanted! You'd had no trouble asking Astoria out."

"You and Astoria were very different situations. Completely. It's one thing to request a date with someone when you've no doubt of their answer. But I didn't want to mess up our friendship, and after speed dating, I didn't think my interest would be reciprocated." He shrugged with a slight chuckle. "If you'd given even the slightest indication that your heart might turn toward me, I'd like to think I would have acted on it."

"But then, there I was, dating Marcus."

Draco nodded. "Yet another sign, to me, that you couldn't possibly be interested in me."

"Even though, by that point, I was."

He chuckled wryly. "And that was April. I found out about you two while out at a pub. That was… unpleasant, to put it mildly. I was extremely shocked, if I'm honest. Couldn't help but wonder why you could see him romantically, when you barely knew him, but there I was, right beside you, so close—yet I saw nothing in your eyes to give me hope."

"I'm sorry, Draco. Marcus… he was very kind, and like I said, we hit it off. The relationship didn't progress the way he wanted it to, though, and I had to end it."

Draco balled his hands into fists once, then slowly relaxed them as he spoke. "That was probably the hardest time I had this year. Speed dating didn't produce the results I wanted, you were clearly oblivious to my feelings, and then you started dating someone else. Marcus, my former Quidditch captain. I don't know why, but it hit hard. He and I were very similar, in a lot of ways, similar upbringings. So I didn't understand how you could see him, but not me."

"I _did_ see you, though." This was probably one of the hardest things to admit. She looked down at her lap. "It made any sort of relationship with Marcus impossible. I thought you were with Astoria, so I reasoned that being with Marcus would help me to get over you, to push aside the brand new attraction I'd just discovered. I thought that—Draco, if you thought there was no way I could look at you as more than a friend, it was nothing to the same sentiment I felt toward you."

He frowned, blinking in surprise.

"You are one of England's most eligible wizards. There's an endless stream of speculation about you, your love life, your future. I know you've always been careful to keep your private life private, but still! How could I possibly compete with the life you'd grown up with, the life you enjoy now?" Hermione shook her head. "No. Never once did it cross my mind that you could feel anything more than friendship for me."

"And yet, nothing makes more sense to me." He reached for her hand, drawing it close to him. Rather than speak, he began to gently rub his thumb along her skin.

She watched him for a while, enjoying the simple yet intense sparks created by the contact. "Isn't this strange?"

He paused. "What's strange?"

"This. Being so close. You touching me. I remember how casually, effortlessly, you guided Astoria through the tent that day. It stood out because you looked so at ease." She stared at his fingers, his thumb rubbing softly. "It was impossible for me to imagine us like that."

"That? That was nothing." Draco smirked, lifting her hand and kissing her knuckles. She shivered at the intense look in his eyes, seemingly from nowhere. "I don't find this strange at all."

"No?" Her question came out a bit breathy. "Even though we aren't used to it?"

"Truthfully, this feels absolutely right. There were many times when it felt like reaching for you was the natural thing to do—take your hand, put my arm around your shoulder, touch your face…" His eyes flitted to her lips. "Kiss you."

She swallowed hard. "I don't remember being close enough for that very often. If ever."

He raised his hand to her cheek, lightly brushing her skin with his thumb. "I didn't need to be close to want to kiss you. There were times I'd see you through a crowd, across the room, and I'd get the urge to rush over and sweep you into my arms."

"Yeah?"

In lieu of an answer, he kissed her, sliding his hand to cradle her neck. Hermione felt any awkwardness disappear immediately, giving herself completely to the kiss.

It was perfect. He didn't press for more than a kiss, and just as she was beginning to contemplate more, he slowed the pace, finally pressing firmly before drawing back, ghosting his thumb once over her lips.

"How many questions on your list have we addressed?"

The deep timber of his voice, rougher after their kiss, did nothing but make her want to kiss him again. "I'm not sure."

"There's plenty of time for all of this. I want to get to the part where we move our relationship forward." He sat back, putting enough distance between them that the fog in her brain began to clear. "I'm afraid I'm not very patient; I want to tell everyone about us."

"You do?"

"Absolutely." He smiled, one of her favorite kinds of smiles.

Hermione forced herself to focus. "I'm most concerned about your mother. I'm not sure what she'll think."

Draco's expression flickered, then he sighed. "I've given this a lot of thought. I mean, a lot." He reached for her hand again, threading his fingers through hers. "She loves me. I believe that with everything in me. She has said repeatedly that she wants me to be happy. And she adores you."

She frowned. "I know that, and I adore her, as well. But it's one thing to like me as her assistant with the Foundation, or as a person in general, as a friend, even. It's completely different to think of me as your…" She trailed off, suddenly unsure. They were together, but they hadn't used any labels.

He didn't miss a beat, however. "My girlfriend, you mean?"

She blushed. "Um, yes. So, is that… Are we…"

"You said you wanted to be together, right? Unless you don't want to put labels on us?"

She could sense his displeasure at the idea. "Oh, I do! I'm just… bad at new relationships, I suppose."

He relaxed with a smile. "It's not like I have a lot of experience with them. But I know this much: I don't want there to be any doubt as to where we stand. I've fancied you for so long, and now that you feel something for me, there's nothing that will stand in my way."

"Not even your mother?" She gave him a pointed look. "Has she ever imagined you with someone who isn't pureblood?"

"She's never said one way or the other."

"Of course not. Her default is that you will marry someone appropriate and continue the long, vaunted blood purity traditions of both the Malfoy and Black houses." She sighed. "I think it's reasonable to say that what she means is, she wants you happy and she will let you choose, but she still pictures someone pureblood witch in her mind."

Draco stretched his legs out before him, tugging her closer as he resituated himself on the wide chair. She cuddled into his side, drawing her legs up onto the cushion, still fighting against the instinct to feel strange to be so close to him. She really hoped that would go away quickly.

"I can't be bothered about that." He kissed her forehead. "Too many things are going my way for once, and I don't want to worry about what ifs. Especially with my mother."

The sun was nearing the horizon and there was a chill in the air. The warming charms Draco had cast around the area were beginning to weaken.

"Shall we continue this somewhere else?" Draco checked his watch. "It's nearly five. We could... have dinner."

Hermione laughed. "It's pretty early for that, don't you think? Besides, I can't tonight. I'm supposed to be at the studio by seven. We're getting everything set up for tomorrow. The teacher, who's a bit eccentric, wants to pretend it's a grand, glorious exhibit, complete with food, drinks, china dishes, and high tables."

Draco chuckled. "I see. I'll be sure to dress appropriately, then."

"Oh, please don't show up in full dress regalia. That would be so embarrassing."

His eyes twinkled for a moment as he looked at her, then his expression softened. "I wouldn't want to do that."

She bit her lip as a thought occurred to her. "Are you sure you should come? I don't think there's going to be much attendance beyond our friends and families. I don't want people to speculate on your presence."

"We're friends, though." He nudged her with his shoulder. "As we established many times—painfully—over the course of this year."

"Yes, and if Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Pansy were all coming, that would be one thing." She picked at something on her jumper. "Then it would make sense for you to be there. But you'll stand out."

"It sounds like you don't want me to go."

Hermione sighed. "Of course I do. But I'm afraid it would draw attention."

Draco shrugged. "I don't care _that_ much. It's not like I'm trying to keep some big secret. I only thought we should talk a bit first, decide together how to move forward. Since, you know, it won't go unnoticed, and lots of people will have something to say."

"I want to personally tell Astoria."

His eyes widened. "Oh?"

She nodded. "She confided in me when we found ourselves at the conference together. It was more difficult than you can know, being the only person she really knew. I'd only just learned that you weren't actually _with_ her, but I had to field her questions about you without betraying what you'd told me, all while trying to give her unbiased advice, despite my own feelings for you."

"I had no idea." His voice was quiet, contemplative. "I've no objections to you telling her."

"I don't want her to find out in some paper, that's all. I feel I owe her that much." She shivered as a gust of chill wind rushed through their sitting area. "I ought to go. I need to stop by Flourish and Blotts before going to the studio, and there are a few other things I should do too."

Draco sighed heavily, his displeasure obvious. But he smiled anyway. "Alright. But I'm going to kiss you before you go." Before she could respond, he'd pulled her to him. This kiss was much more demanding than their previous ones, more insistent and urgent. She felt barely able to keep time with him, but she did her best, meeting his lips, his touch, with equal fervor.

Kissing him was the one thing so far that didn't feel strange. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. The feel of his lips, his tongue, his hands on her, was absolutely right. And the more she experienced the other things, like holding his hand or having his arm draped around her shoulder, the easier those actions would feel as well.

Finally, just when she thought she might explode, he slowed the kiss, taking her face in his hands for one last, long, drawn-out kiss that lit a fresh fire inside her.

When he stopped, his eyes were wild. "I promise I'm going to let you go."

"I wish you didn't have to." She really, really did.

"Me too." With that, he stood and held out his hand. "You go on. I've got to reset everything here. I noticed my mother left everything."

"Okay. Good night, Draco." She did something impulsive and kissed _him_ for a change. It was short and sweet, but it felt really good to be comfortable enough to do it. "See you tomorrow."

He waved as she Disapparated.

* * *

**Saturday, 4 NOVEMBER**

"I can't believe you bought that painting."

Draco laughed. "I can't believe what I had to pay for it."

She made a face. "Why do you want that extremely detailed, close up picture of an old man's nose? It's hideous!"

He scoffed, dramatically drawing a hand to his chest. "You wound me! I know art when I see it!"

"Exactly. So why did you buy that rubbish?"

Draco chuckled and opened the door to the restaurant he'd picked for their celebratory lunch. It was tucked deep in the heart of Muggle London where nobody would see them.

Although, considering it was nearly three, it couldn't quite be called lunch.

It was a café, so they placed their orders at a counter and sat near the back.

"I'm waiting for my answer." Hermione gave him an expectant look.

He grinned and took a bite of sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. "I haven't quite decided, but I'm leaning toward a Christmas gift for Potter."

Hermione was so surprised at his answer that she burst out laughing, then physically covered her mouth to stifle the sound. "Oh, Draco! That's brilliant! I don't know what your other idea is, but I vote for Harry. Somehow you have to get him to agree to display it for a year. Before he knows what it is."

Draco's eyes shone with mischief. "Ooh, that's excellent. I like the way you think."

She shook her head, trying to imagine the painting in Harry's home. For a fleeting moment, she thought of Ginny but quickly dismissed it.

He picked up a crisp. "Were you happy with the show?"

She waved absently. "It's not something I especially wanted to do. I just did it because... well, why not? I think it went fine. Everyone seemed to have a good time."

"I wanted to stay longer. Stare at you while pretending to admire that sculpture made from chocolate frog wrappers and Spell-O-Tape. But then the artist started talking to me, thinking I was interested in it..." He shrugged.

"At least you managed to leave me a note about meeting you after."

He sighed. "And I don't have very long, either. I never dreamed you'd be stuck there most of the day."

"What do you have tonight?"

"Something for the Foundation. It's the yearly investors meeting and extravagant dinner party." He grimaced. "It's always awful. Be glad you're not involved in that side of things. Mother wants me home in about an hour."

"That's too bad. Are you going to show her 'The Nose?'" She tried but failed to say it with a straight face.

He sat up and straightened his tie with an air of self-importance. "If anyone knows fine art, it's my mother."

Hermione smirked. "So she'd set it on fire for you?"

"Very funny. You know, that painting is… large." He tapped the table, biting his lip as the wheels in his mind spun. "I didn't really consider that. How will I wrap it? I don't think I'll be able to give it to him at work, which is what I was planning…"

"You'll probably have to give it to him at home." Then something occurred to her. "Oh! Draco! No, I've got an idea!" She was so excited she could barely sit still. "Here's what you can do. Get a small print made and framed, then give him that for his gift at work. Then—and I'll help you with this, I can get past their wards—ooh, I'll get Ginny out of the house and you can sneak in and hang the real one in their bedroom!"

His eyes lit up like a kid let loose in a sweet shop. "I take it back. I don't just like the way you think, I'm in love with it. You've really got some Slytherin qualities in you that surprise, delight, and frighten me at the same time. It's a good kind of scared though, I assure you."

"Does that mean we're doing this?" She leaned across the table conspiratorially. "Because I'm in if you are"

He gave her one of her favorite kinds of smiles. "Absolutely."

* * *

**Tuesday, 7 NOVEMBER**

Hermione didn't think much about her attire as she Apparated to Malfoy Manor. She was used to tea with Narcissa for Foundation purposes, and this was no different. Nobody greeted her in the Traveling Room, but that was also not uncommon. She knew the Manor well enough to find her way almost anywhere, and Narcissa had welcomed her as a trusted friend.

As she made her way to Narcissa's favorite tea room, she hummed lightly, nothing much on her mind except a task Pansy had given her: locate somewhere for an intimate dinner for close friends and family the night before the wedding.

She entered the room with a smile only to falter upon seeing Draco there. He saw her first, and his eyes went wide.

Narcissa noticed her son's expression and followed his gaze, a gentle smile gracing her lips as she rose. "Hermione! I'm so glad you could come."

She recovered quickly. It was perfectly natural that Draco would be there to discuss Foundation business, though it didn't happen often. However, it was a surprise to find him there on a weekday, in the middle of the day. "Thank you, as always, for having me. I love the winter flowers you've set out around the house."

"Oh, yes, Pippi has outdone herself this year. Will you join us?"

Hermione smiled graciously and took the remaining seat opposite Draco. "Good afternoon, Draco."

"Hermione." He nodded to her with an air of indifference, but she could sense he was on edge.

"How's Harry? Hopefully you're not missing anything important."

Draco shrugged. "I was able to leave an hour early. I'd like to think I've trained him well enough to cope without me."

"He did go long stretches without you over the summer." Hermione slowly stirred her tea, trying to force her heart to stop pounding.

He chuckled. "That's true. Though Merlin knows he didn't get any better at writing reports. Mother, I wasn't aware that Hermione would be joining us."

Narcissa primly dabbed her lips. "Oh? I didn't realize it needed to be said, since she and I usually meet for tea. I hope it's not a problem."

"Of course not." He gave his mother a tight smile. "What did you want to discuss?"

Hermione thought she saw Narcissa's eyes flash but couldn't decide if perhaps it was a trick of the light.

"I'm considering having a ball, Draco. For Yule. It's been ever so long since we held something here. I've always maintained that I want to host Foundation events away from the Manor when possible, but I miss hosting my friends. I do love a good party. And as wonderful as Foundation events are, I feel torn because I have a certain standard to uphold, while also being responsible with Foundation funds." She turned to Hermione. "You know, of course, that I typically use my own funds to secure venues and all of the extras that set our events apart."

Hermione nodded. "They're always beautiful, Narcissa."

"But I want to throw something large and lavish for once."

Draco was frowning. "I'm not sure that's a great idea, Mother. You know how outsiders would see it."

Narcissa tutted. "I've thought of that, but I don't care. No matter what we do, we're criticized for something. I miss the days of gigantic parties and extravagant food. Besides." Now her eyes twinkled as she looked at her son. "I've had multiple letters from families who want to get to know you better."

Hermione bit her lip to keep from reacting. Narcissa hadn't needed to state explicitly that by families, she meant eligible young witches.

Draco scowled. "Since when has that mattered to you, Mother?"

"Oh, darling. A mother cannot help but consider these things. And a ball is a perfectly lovely time for introductions! Just think, all those lovely young women, dressed in beautiful gowns, the dancing, the lights, the music… It would be perfectly harmless, of course. You would be under no obligations." She gave Draco a pointed look. "I've told you dozens of times that my only wish is for your happiness."

He seemed torn, his expression dark.

Hermione interjected, hoping to save him some discomfort. "A ball sounds lovely, Narcissa. My only concern is that Ron and Pansy are getting married around Yule, and two large events so close together might not go over well."

Narcissa regarded Hermione a moment, seeming to consider her words. "That's true. Perhaps a New Year's Eve ball, then? It's still not very far removed, but the entire atmosphere could be so different that no one will think anything of it. What do you say, son?"

"Whatever you want, Mother." His tone was devoid of emotion.

Narcissa's eyes narrowed at him before she turned her gaze to Hermione. Finally, when no one said another word, she sighed and set her napkin down. "The two of you are either completely oblivious or obstinately stubborn or some mixture of both." She sniffed. "I suspect both. But if I haven't made myself abundantly clear over the course of this year, let me state, once and for all, my position."

She turned to her son. "Draco, I love you with all of my being. Everything I do is for you. I'm not the least bit concerned with what people think of me. But I refuse to allow the Malfoy name to sink into obscurity for one reason: because you wear it. Everything I do—the Foundation, the fundraising, the charitable events—is to give you a respectable place in this world. That you have expanded my efforts and taken ownership of the work is the greatest joy of my life. I have never been more proud of you than I am at this moment after everything you've done this year."

Hermione saw him swallow hard, his eyes blinking rapidly. She knew he was thinking of what he'd told her, of what he saw as his less than honorable motivation behind helping the pixies. He opened his mouth to speak, probably to confess, lest his mother think too highly of him, but Hermione reached across the small table and put her hand on his wrist.

"Draco, it's okay."

Narcissa spun now to look at her, and she released Draco.

"And you, Hermione, dear. I have more respect for you than any of my acquaintances. I find you delightful and charming and brilliant, hard-working, honest, and ambitious. I have told you before that you are one of my favorite people." She let out a small huff, followed by a few deep breaths. "Yet despite all of this, somehow, it would seem that neither of you believe me, so let me be absolutely clear. Draco, all I want for you is your happiness. If you think I care one bit about Hermione's blood status, then I have somehow failed along the way."

Her fierce, stormy eyes were fixed on Draco, who had gone slightly pale, yet met her gaze with firm resolve.

"I cannot help but assume that you fear my reaction to your relationship, so allow me to remedy that confusion. I have been anxiously awaiting it all year, ever since I first suspected your feelings, Draco. I had no idea it would take so long, and there were times I wanted to knock your heads together out of frustration. It's obvious that something significant has happened recently, and I had hoped one or both of you would tell me, but I am out of patience." She folded her hands in her lap and gave them a disapproving look. "Now. Tell me. When did this begin?"

Hermione met Draco's relieved gaze and started laughing. Then he joined in, chucking lightly.

"The night of the fundraiser, Mother." Draco's shoulders relaxed. "And we didn't fear your reaction."

"No! Not at all," Hermione rushed. "Draco had no intention of abiding by any sort of ruling against it you might make."

"Good," Narcissa said with a snap. "I'm pleased to hear it."

"It was a combination of timing and other factors that held us back. We never doubted your affection for either of us, though..." Draco paused, glancing at Hermione. "I admit, I did wonder at times what you'd think. It's such a deeply rooted reaction, one buried in me from the beginning of my life. I didn't doubt that you loved me, but I struggled to accept that your wish for my happiness could extend to include her."

Narcissa gracefully rolled her eyes. "Draco, Hermione is the best thing that's ever happened to you, and I couldn't possibly hope to claim that I love you if I refused to accept it. Now, tell me how you wish to proceed. Obviously, you have my full support. And there's been nary a whisper about you two or I'd have heard it from someone or other."

"There's no grand plan." Draco sighed. "We've just needed some time to get used to the idea. It was all very sudden and unexpected by both of us, so we had some questions to work through. And that's all I'm saying on the matter, Mother."

"Unexpected? By both of you?" She shook her head. "Then you were both ridiculously oblivious." Narcissa set her napkin down and took a last sip of tea. "Well, I've accomplished my aim for the day. I will leave you two."

Draco arched an eyebrow. "What about the ball?"

She waved dismissively as she stood. "That was only to see if I could encourage either of you to give up the goose. But, as I said, you're both stubborn. Have a lovely evening, you two."

"Thank you, Narcissa." Hermione had been rather silent, knowing it was a significant moment between Draco and his mother. She felt honored to be included in it and appreciated that Narcissa had spoken to both of them together about her suspicions. It was clear that Narcissa truly valued her and was happy to see her with Draco.

Narcissa smiled warmly. "Of course, my dear. I know neither of you took me seriously, but I fully intend for you to run the Foundation someday." She winked and sailed from the room.

Then, she was alone with Draco.

Their eyes met and he let out a long breath. "I did not see that coming."

"Me either." Hermione shook her head. "I'm quite glad that it's out there now though. At least with her."

He nodded. "Yes. You can tell Astoria now, and then we can share with our friends."

"Pansy is going to be impossible." Hermione groaned.

"Oh, you've no idea. She'll be beyond impossible."

"I told Ginny how I felt. She's the only person."

He looked surprised. "You didn't tell Pansy?"

"I didn't quite trust her not to tell _you!"_

"That's fair. I don't think she would have, but you couldn't have known that."

Hermione shrugged. "How about you? Did you tell anyone?"

Draco cringed slightly. "Potter knows." Her eyes went wide. "He's known… a long time. Only he found out through subterfuge, and he's been under strict orders not to breathe a word of it."

"Harry knows?" She struggled to wrap her mind around this news. Suddenly, every conversation she'd had with Harry over the year came rushing back, and she had to stop herself from trying to parse each one, looking for clues. "For how long?"

He nodded. "It was a long time ago. Before Christmas last year. I think he suspected, so when we were out to a pub one night, after closing a big case, he kept buying me drinks until he decided I was drunk enough to tell the truth. Which, I will say, was really, really drunk. Probably about like you were when you Apparated onto the Manor grounds. You do know you're really bloody lucky you didn't Splinch yourself, don't you?"

"Yes, I do know that, but don't think you can get me off the subject of Harry. Harry knows!" She shook her head in disbelief. "And he didn't tell me!"

"If he had, it would have been very bad for him. Be glad he kept his mouth shut." Draco smirked. "He should have known better than to try and extract information from me."

Hermione was already mentally compiling a list of questions she planned to ask Harry the next time she saw him—which may or may not involve the use of Veritaserum.

"What do you want to do now that we find ourselves here? And alone, at that." Draco took another biscuit off the tray. "Tell me you don't have a meeting tonight or something."

"I don't have any obligations for the rest of the day."

His responding smile was predatory. "Excellent. I propose we take a walk around the grounds, enjoy the last bits of daylight, then have dinner somewhere Muggle. Away from prying eyes."

"I'd love that. And tonight, I don't want to talk about everything before. I want to enjoy an entire evening without hashing out all of the misunderstandings between us this year." Even though she still had dozens of questions, she also wanted to get to know him better. "And this isn't our date, right?"

He furrowed his brow. "Merlin, no. I said you'll know it when I ask you on a proper date."

"Is this to be an improper date, then?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she blushed.

Draco's eyes flashed, his lips curling in a smirk. "Careful there, Hermione. That sounds an awful lot like flirting."

She shrugged off his comment and sat tall. "If I can't flirt with my boyfriend, what's the point?"

He leaned back and regarded her with amusement. "I'm already so far gone for you that you don't need to do much at all for my fall to be complete."

Hermione stood and held out her hand. "So long as we fall together. Shall we take that walk you mentioned?"

* * *

**Friday, 10 NOVEMBER**

"Thank you so much for joining me." Hermione smiled at Astoria as the other witch got settled into her seat.

It was a crisp November day, and they had scored the table nearest the fire.

Astoria clapped her hands and rested them on the table. "Truthfully, I was surprised you contacted me. It's been a long time since that conference in May."

Hermione felt a wave of shame wash over her. Perhaps she should have reached out to the other woman sooner.

Then Astoria waved her hand. "But I saw how busy you've been with your work. And then losing your case." She made an exaggerated sad face.

"Yes. That was... unpleasant."

The food they had ordered earlier at the counter arrived then. Hermione took her time preparing her tea while Astoria did the same.

"So, why did you want to see me?" Astoria's eyes were sharp, piercing.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Well, the truth is... I wanted to talk to you about... about Draco."

Astoria looked at her warily. "Draco? What about him? Is he okay?"

"Oh, yes, he's fine." She wrapped her hands around her cup. Everything she had planned to say was all jumbled up in her head. "The thing is... well, he's, um, seeing someone."

For a moment, Astoria's expression was one of alarm, but then she let out a sharp laugh. "Thank Merlin! I've been hoping he'd find someone, but good grief, it's been ages!"

Hermione's eyes went wide. "You have?"

Astoria rolled her eyes and leaned forward. "You have no idea. After the conference, when you told me a whole lot of things I needed to hear but didn't want to at the time, I tried to speak with him. He was very firm when he told me it wasn't going to happen."

"I see."

"Then... I met someone." Her eyes sparkled.

"Yeah?" Hermione felt a rush of relief. "Who is it? I haven't seen anything in the papers. Granted, I rarely read them."

Astoria sighed. "My mother won't let the idea of me with Draco go. Until I can convince her that it's not going to happen, I can't even think about acting on it. But... we do see each other. And... he's wonderful."

Hermione smiled. "I'm thrilled for you! Truly! Do you want to tell me who it is?"

"Well, all right. You know him, actually. You're well acquainted with his family." Astoria blushed, her eyes bright.

"Really?" She tried to think of who it might be, but she had no idea where to start. "Go on!"

"Yes. Right. It's just... my mother will lose her mind. But he's pureblood, at least. We meet at a symposium in July in Budapest. The topic was South American dragons."

Hermione waited for more, but from the look on Astoria's face, those were all the clues she was going to get. Then it hit her. "Wait. Not... not Charlie Weasley?"

Astoria's whole face lit up. "Yes! But you can't say a word! I don't get to see him much, since he's in Romania, but... it's incredible whenever I do."

"I don't know what to say! I'm very happy for you! Do you plan to ever tell your mother?"

"Yes, of course. Once she lets the idea of me and Draco go." Astoria rolled her eyes. "She still thinks it's possible. But speaking of him! I forgot, he's the reason you wanted to talk to me. He's seeing someone?"

Hermione took a steadying breath. "Yes. Um, he is. It's... me."

Astoria's eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. "You? Really?"

Hermione shrugged, trying to seem at ease. "We've been friends for some time now, and… well, it slowly developed into something more over the course of this year."

A shadow passed over Astoria's face. "Since when? When you said all of that to me in May?"

"No, of course not. I didn't lie to you! But I had only just realized my feelings for him before that trip. I didn't find out about his until a few weeks ago."

The other woman seemed slightly on edge for a moment, then she appeared to brush it off, even going as far as to smile. "I can see it, you know. Now that I think about it. Yes, you're much more suited for him than I am." She reached over and squeezed Hermione's wrist. "Good for you. Really. Now I just need you to tell the world so that my mother will get over her obsession and I can tell her about Charlie!"

Hermione laughed. "Molly is going to lose her mind. I think they'd all given up on him."

Astoria grinned, her expression taking on a far away look. "He wants to bring me to his brother's wedding. Hopefully everything will work out so he can."

They talked for another hour, with Astoria peppering her with questions about Charlie. Hermione decided that she genuinely liked the other woman, now that she was securely fastened to someone else's arm.

* * *

**Sunday, 12 NOVEMBER**

Hermione was nervous. Tonight was the night: their first date.

She felt silly over being so nervous; after all, they'd seen each other plenty of times before, even gone to dinner just the two of them a few times. But it was always casual, not planned beforehand.

Not so this time.

Draco had sent her an invitation that morning on crisp, bright white parchment requesting her company for the evening. He had explicitly written "This is the date" on the bottom. She'd laughed and then immediately started to panic.

That feeling had been with her all day, all through lunch at The Burrow, where she'd had to fend off dozens of questions about her wellbeing. Charlie had been there, and they'd spoken briefly about Astoria. His whole expression had lit up like fairy lights when he talked about her, and Hermione suspected they'd be going public very soon.

A quick glance at her clock read ten 'til seven, exactly one minute from the last time she'd looked. His note said he'd pick her up at seven and to be ready for something delicious and messy. She'd spent an hour in her closet going through her meager offerings, finally deciding on denims and a flowy blouse. She hoped the top wouldn't be a problem with the messy portion of the evening, but with so little to go on, she'd opted for something that made her feel pretty.

Plus, she'd stashed a few extra tops in her beaded bag, just in case.

As for her hair, well, she'd tried to control the curls so they were intentional rather than haphazard.

She'd wanted to ask Pansy to come and help her with everything, but that would have required telling Pansy what was going on, and she wasn't prepared for that yet. They'd told the two people they'd felt most needed to know before it was general knowledge, and she was looking forward to a whole evening with just him, where they wouldn't have to worry or think about people seeing them and writing about it in the papers.

Hermione was a ball of nervous energy, trying desperately to read an entire sentence without getting distracted, when there was a knock on her door. The clock read five 'til seven, so she frowned, wondering who it could be.

When she opened the door, Draco was there, grinning mischievously. "I figured you might appreciate me putting a quicker end to your misery."

She exhaled in relief, then without really thinking about it, threw her arms around him. His hands went immediately to her back, and when she tipped her head back to look at him, he kissed her gently.

When he pulled back, his eyes were intense, as though there were hundreds of things he wanted to say or do, but he merely gave her a small smile. "Hi."

"I am glad that you came a little early. Are we ready?"

He nodded and held out his arm. "We'll be Apparating. Shall we?"

Hermione nodded, locked her flat with a wave of her wand, and linked arms with him.

Moments later, they were standing outside a brick building somewhere in London. She gave him a quizzical look. "What are we doing?"

"I signed us up for a class." He nodded toward a set of black double doors with mullioned panes on the top half. "We're going to make French treats."

She gazed at him, then burst out laughing. "Is this because I told you how terrible my cooking classes went earlier this year?"

He grinned and opened the door, pressing a hand to the small of her back to guide her through. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Two and a half hours later they were waiting with bated breath to see how their macaron cookies would turn out. It was a moment of down time, and Hermione was leaning against the counter, her eyes fixed on the oven.

Draco stood beside her, licking the spatula. "They'll be fine."

"Our instructor made it sound like getting these right is a fluke with so many variables." She looked at him. "I want them to be perfect."

His eyes softened. "Why?"

She shrugged. "Because. We have history with these little sandwich treats. I love that we're making them together for our first date."

"I'm sure they will be delicious. Have you tried some of this?" He held the spatula out to her, nearly licked clean.

"No. Thank you, though."

He grinned and brandished the utensil before her. "You should try it. Come on. One taste?"

"I'll try the cookies when they're done."

With a swipe of his finger, he got most of the remaining batter off the spatula and offered it to her.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, and he motioned for her to try the batter, a playful smirk on his face. She suddenly felt very warm, and in a moment of daring she hadn't seen coming, flicked her tongue out to lick the sweet concoction from his fingertip.

His smirk dropped into something intense, his eyes widening slightly as his gaze dipped to her lips. For an instant, everything around them melted into nothing as they stared at each other for a heartbeat.

Then someone dropped a metal bowl, and the loud clanging broke the spell. Hermione spun away in order to focus on something other than the thought of kissing him. He continued his task of cleaning up their area while she read the next steps.

When the timer dinged, they were almost ready with their filling, a simple buttercream frosting. Draco pulled out the trays and set them on the counter.

"How do they look?" She peered at the perfect little round wafers, looking for the tell-tale 'feet' the instructor had mentioned. Sure enough, every single one of theirs had turned out right. "They're perfect!" She beamed at Draco, turning just in time to see him pop one in his mouth. "Hey!"

His expression was wide-eyed and innocent. "What? We need a taste test."

She rolled her eyes. "And how is it?"

"Pretty good." Draco took another off the tray. "I think I should try a few more."

"No!" She swatted his hand playfully as he reached for a third. "I want to finish the recipe."

"We're going to have dozens. You won't miss three—four!—of these!" He snatched a fourth one and jumped out of her reach, chewing with relish as he smirked at her.

Hermione shook his head. "You and that sweet tooth."

"It's your fault I love these things so much."

"My fault?" She peered up at him from her position of applying icing to one of the cookies.

"You sent me a box for my birthday, remember?"

She smiled and returned to her task. "Yes. Had them shipped from Paris."

He shrugged. "Now I think of you whenever I eat them."

Hermione stood straight and surveyed the three trays of macaron halves. "I suppose you'll be thinking about me a lot over the coming weeks. Or will this only cover a few days?"

Draco chuckled and stepped closer, his arm crossing her back to hitch at her waist. "Trust me. I don't need macarons to give me a reason to think about you." He gently squeezed her hip, then put a little space between them.

Hermione blushed, focusing on making the little sandwich treats, placing one cookie atop another that had icing on it.

Whenever he did something intimate, like squeezing her hip, holding her hand, or any of the little touches he was wont to do, she felt a rush of heat and a slight tendril of awkwardness. They'd be in the middle of a conversation, something they'd done hundreds of times, and then he'd do something to remind her that they were more than just friends. Every time it caught her off guard, made her breath hitch, or caused her to react in some unnatural way. She wondered when it would pass. She wondered if it was simply the strength of her attraction that caused the mere brush of his fingers on her arm to lead to a cascade of delightful sensations all through her.

When the class concluded, Draco and Hermione had five packages of sweets to take home: madeleines, macarons, and croissants. They folded their aprons and were about to leave when the instructor approached them.

"You two have clearly done this before."

They looked at each other.

"Done what?" Hermione asked.

"Baked before. Maybe not macarons, but the way you moved together and communicated, many times without words, was unusually smooth."

Draco grinned. "We haven't, actually. This was our first date."

Hermione shot him a look. "However, we've been friends for a while. And in school, we had classes like this every year, so we both developed good habits."

The instructor raised an eyebrow. "Fascinating. You had cooking classes every year?"

"No. More like... Chemistry lessons. Having to be meticulous in preparing ingredients to be combined in certain ways."

"Well, that sounds like a fascinating school. Where is it?"

"Scotland." Draco took her hand. "It's a private school. Thank you again for the class." He didn't wait, tugging Hermione gently after him.

Once outside, he cast a few charms to protect their treasures, then gave the boxes to her. "In your bag, yeah?"

She nodded and quickly shoved the packages out of sight. "That was fun, Draco. I had a really nice time."

"Good. It was... different. Quite a lot of work for such a small thing. Do you think you'll ever try to make these again? I can't imagine doing it myself."

Hermione had a brief picture of making more macarons for _him_ , and she smiled mysteriously. "Maybe together?"

He gave her a wistful look. "I like the sound of that."

At that, her stomach rumbled slightly. "As wonderful as tonight had been, I'm... really hungry." There had been a beautiful spread of finger foods available during their class, but there hadn't exactly been a lot of time for leisurely eating. She'd grabbed small plates of things during their breaks, but it hadn't been substantial.

"Me too. What do you have in mind?" He glanced around the street but they were in a primarily residential part of London.

"Thai. There's a delicious place near the Leaky. It's late, though; we could get takeaway and eat at my place?"

He quickly agreed and she led him to the nearest secluded spot. After making sure the coast was clear, she Apparated them both.

Twenty minutes later, they were sitting down at her table, takeaway cartons spread over its surface. Conversation flowed easily, though she kept having to stop herself from asking about their past. That was a stipulation she had requested for their date, but she was so curious to hear everything from the year leading up to their balcony kiss that her mind naturally drifted in that direction.

They moved to the sofa; she opened a bottle of wine. She wound up tucked into his side, his arm around her shoulder and hand holding hers, as they debated the ethics of one of his cases.

When she found herself yawning three times in quick succession, she looked at the clock. It read ten till two.

Hermione sat up abruptly. "Oh Draco! It's so late! You have to work tomorrow!"

After glancing at the clock himself, he merely shrugged. "That's what coffee is for. Though I don't typically enjoy the stuff, it serves a purpose."

"Even so, I'm falling asleep." She didn't want to say he had to leave, because she never wanted to be away from him.

He got the hint and stood, stretching. "I've definitely dozed a few times. I suppose I ought to get a few hours of sleep."

Hermione gave him a grateful smile and stood as well. "Yes. The DMLE needs its Aurors in top form."

Draco smiled sleepily and pulled her into his arms. "Am I allowed to kiss you goodnight?"

"Yes, please." She tilted her head up, breath catching at the sudden intensity of his gaze.

But though it looked as if he wanted to devour her whole, his kiss was gentle and sweet. It was still enough to make her want more, but she didn't want to keep him up any longer.

"Goodnight, Granger."

She blinked in surprise. "You haven't called me that in a long time!"

"Not out loud, anyway." He smirked and tapped his head. Then he placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. "Until next time, Hermione."

Then he was gone.

* * *

**Wednesday, 15 NOVEMBER**

A knock on the door interrupted Hermione's thoughts. She'd been rereading a letter from Minerva, hoping that something new would jump out at her. Hermione had written to the Headmistress the week before, asking for guidance on what she should do next. Minerva had responded by offering her a position at Hogwarts, even though there were currently no teaching vacancies.

_Having you here would be reason enough. We'll find something for you._

It reminded Hermione of what Narcissa had said, that she would create a position just for Hermione with the Foundation. And while both options were things she would truly enjoy—teaching at Hogwarts or working closely with Narcissa—she felt a bit unsettled at the idea of her friends making up positions for her. She wanted to do something that she believed in and she wanted to earn it all on her own.

But she tucked the letter away and went to answer the door, wondering who it could be; she wasn't expecting anyone.

To her delight, it was Draco, holding two bags of takeaway and smiling sheepishly.

"I got out of work sooner than I thought and I was hungry. I figured you might be hungry too?"

Hermione smiled and held the door open for him. "You're in luck. I happen to be hungry."

"Otherwise you'd send me packing, I know." He kissed her as he entered the flat, then went to the kitchen table and started distributing food. "I thought we might get through more of your list tonight. This isn't a date, of course, simply a convenient way to spend dinner time."

She chuckled. "Yes. You just happened to be in the area with my favorite takeaway." From the kitchen, she retrieved plates, forks, knives, glasses, and a carafe of water.

He gave her a sharp look. "Oh, no, that part was absolutely intentional. I figured I'd better show up with something you really liked or you might send me away."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she poured them glasses of water. "You know very well that you could have shown up with nothing in hand and I'd have been happy to see you. You don't need to manufacture reasons to come by if you want to."

"Good. And I know that, but I was genuinely hungry." He grinned and sat down, rubbing his hands together. "I'm ready for The List."

"The List, huh? Well, let's see. We've gone through a lot of it already." She made a show of pulling out the now worn parchment that contained her questions. She ran a finger down the rows of writing until she came to a section that hadn't been crossed off. "Let's discuss our little scuffle in August."

Draco's eyes went wide and he cringed. "What? Why? We've already been through that, haven't we?"

"Have you told me _everything_? I want to know what you were thinking before that—ooh, I want to know what Pansy said to you at your house! When we showed up that morning and Suzanne was leaving!"

Draco's jaw clenched and his expression went hard. "I love Pansy, but that woman can be impossible. She… basically yelled at me, telling me she knew I had feelings for you, so what was I doing with some random woman on a Saturday morning. I don't do well being attacked like that, so I didn't respond, which only made her angrier. I finally told her that no, I hadn't slept with Suzanne, but she didn't seem to want to believe me. It was infuriating. And then she insisted I go to brunch with you two, and as much as I didn't want to even look at Pansy, I did want to see you because I'm sure if Pansy thought I'd been sleeping with Suzanne, you would have too, and… I don't know, I wanted you to know that I wasn't? That I hadn't? But I couldn't very well _say_ that because you'd wonder why I wanted you to know so much, and Pansy would have been intolerable. She barely believed me anyway, and berated me for 'betraying my feelings' which she didn't even have confirmation of and was just going off assumptions she'd made. I told her that if I wanted to sleep with my neighbor, I had every right, and who did she think she was getting angry at me for it?"

Hermione looked at him in amusement. "That was not my favorite morning."

"No. And then, of course, I was an arse to you." He grimaced. "But now you know why my nerves were frayed to begin with. It doesn't excuse my actions, but hopefully it helps give them some context. I knew Suzanne was interested in me, and I might have enjoyed that knowledge a little, especially since you were dating Marcus when that started. But I had no intentions of doing something rash."

"Yet you kissed her." Hermione pointed at him with her fork.

Draco sighed. "Yes. I did. Are there questions on your list about that?"

Hermione glanced at her sheet. There were. But, of course, she didn't _have_ to address those. She knew the important things, namely that he'd broken things off with her early in October. "Did you fancy her?"

"I… imagined I could have. I'm sure that doesn't help any. But… I wanted to, in a way. Because I didn't think I had any future with you, and I was tired of wanting something to happen when nothing ever did. At your birthday dinner, on the boat—"

"Oh! Yes, I definitely have questions about my birthday!"

He gave her a wary look. "Are we finished with Suzanne, then?"

"I don't know. I think so?" She shrugged. "I mean, you chose me over her."

He snorted. "There was no choice. Not really. I realize that I was unfair to Suzanne, but I didn't do it on purpose. I thought I'd have some fun, maybe get over you. She wasn't too upset, I don't think."

"I think she was more upset than she wanted you to know, if I had to guess. It was obvious when I met her that she was interested in you." Hermione felt some sympathy for Suzanne. Draco was an incredible man, and any woman would be lucky to catch his eye. Hopefully, she'd get past it quickly.

"Maybe you're right, but we never did more than have dinner a few times. I tried to keep things light and casual. I even told her I wasn't ready for anything serious." He winced slightly. "Something tells me she was okay with that because she hoped I'd change my mind."

"That wouldn't surprise me. But as long as you were honest with her, that's what's important." She took a drink of her water. "Now. About my birthday. You weren't okay, were you?"

He sighed and picked up his empty water glass. "You got anything stronger than this?"

"Of course." She stood quickly. "I'll bring in a bottle of wine." In the kitchen, she quickly retrieved two wine glasses and a bottle from the fridge. When she returned, she poured them both a drink.

Draco took a sip and swirled the liquid in the glass. "I was not great, I'll admit that. It had been one year to the day since I'd realized my feelings for you, and I… I felt a lot of things. I was angry with myself because, even after a year, nothing had changed, except that what I felt had only grown stronger. Yet in all that time, all I'd managed to do was sort of ask you out, panic when it didn't happen the way I thought it would, then retreat into my own head for months. And you made it sound like you were happy with the way things were. Said you were okay being there alone."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, I mean, I _was_ , in that it wasn't the end of my world. I'd much rather have been with you. But you were dating Suzanne then, remember?"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Yes. Technically, I was dating her. But if you had given me any indication that you cared for me, I'd have rectified that technicality faster than you can say 'Weasley is our King.'"

Hermione grinned at the reference to their fifth year.

"As I did when you kissed me at the end of September."

"I am sorry, Draco." He started to protest but she continued. "I'm sorry that I didn't pick up on the fact that you were interested in me."

"Don't be! How could you have? I didn't make it very obvious."

"Pansy saw it."

He snorted. "Pansy sees all kinds of things, and it doesn't make them all true."

"Well, looking back on everything, I don't see how I didn't notice." She laughed lightly, enjoying the warm feeling from both the wine and his eyes. "I suppose hindsight really is twenty-twenty."

Draco blinked, then frowned. "I'm sorry, it's what?"

"Twenty-twenty." She sat up a little straighter, excited at the thought of telling him something new. "It's how Muggles measure their vision. I don't know how wizards do it, since I don't need corrective lenses. I wonder what Harry does now."

"What about hindsight?"

"Yes, sorry. There's this saying that hindsight is twenty-twenty, meaning that when you look back, behind you, things that you didn't see at the time are obvious. Like when I think back on this year, I can see the evidence of your affection, even though I dismissed those things as something else at the time."

"Ah. I'm not sure I can say the same."

"You spent a lot of time avoiding me after I realized my feelings."

He gave her a piercing look. "You spent a lot of time dating Marcus, I believe."

"But that only lasted until July! Why didn't you do something then?"

"Because I thought you weren't interested. And so I kept pulling away. I've no excuses other than I felt certain I knew your feelings, so I saw no point in further risking myself. I am especially adept at self-preservation, as I've told you before."

Hermione shook her head. "It's a little crazy to think about this whole year. If you'd asked me early on, I mean _really_ asked me out, I don't know what I'd have said, but I feel confident, based on how I feel now, that it wouldn't have taken me long to realize how much I care for you. It didn't take me long at all to fall for you once I started thinking about you in that way. Though I still didn't believe you'd think of _me_ the same way."

Draco's expression softened and he was quiet for a while. He'd finished eating and was slowly sipping his wine. Finally, he smiled and sat up, setting his glass down. "Any more questions?"

"Not tonight." She smiled. "I want to hear about _your_ day."

* * *

**Sunday, 19 NOVEMBER  
**  
"I can't thank you enough for this." Hermione tipped her head in amusement.

Draco looked a little green around the edges, but he smiled at her nonetheless. "I've told you I'd do anything for you, remember?"

She patted his chest and kissed him briefly. "I do. Which is why I asked you to attend Sunday dinner at The Burrow with me. It's the perfect place to reveal our relationship to our friends. Well, mostly my friends, but Pansy will be there, too."

"Which means everyone will know by tomorrow." He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her. "I've been to The Burrow before, of course, but never with such an important announcement. I do like your logic of getting so much of the attention out of the way at once."

"Exactly. Are you ready?"

He shook his head. "It's one thing to attend the occasional dinner as Potter's partner. But these people love you like family. What if they think I'm not good enough for you? I'm mean, they'd be right, of course, but what if they hate me? What if—"

Hermione put a finger to his lips, then replaced it with her own. He was hesitant at first, then she nipped his lower lip and he responded eagerly, darting his tongue out to slide along her lips. She allowed him to deepen the kiss as he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms tightly around her back.

After a few minutes, she slowed things down. "How about now?"

He rolled his eyes. "If you think a quick snog is going to erase the riot of anxious energy flooding through me, you're wrong. I'll never be ready." He took her hand and brought her wrist up, pressing a light kiss to the sensitive skin. "But let's go."

Hermione exhaled sharply, then swallowed hard. "Um, yes. Yes, let's." Before she changed her mind and dragged him to her bedroom.

When they arrived on the outskirts of the Weasley property, Hermione took Draco's hand. "I have no idea who's going to be here. Harry only said he'd make sure everyone pertinent is here. We'll just take each interaction as it comes."

"Right." He was staring at the ground and Hermione had a brief flash of worry that he might be sick. But then his gaze met hers and he smiled. "Lead the way."

It was a short walk to the house, but she hadn't wanted to arrive in the middle of the open yard. As she pushed through the tall grass on the edge of the cleared area, a nervous swoop rushed through her. But then her eyes locked on Harry, sitting in a chair surrounded by a group of people she couldn't bother trying to sort out. He seemed to have been looking for them, and his big, goofy grin set her slightly more at ease.

He waved and turned to Ginny, whose gaze then drifted to them as they walked. Her eyes went wide and she reached over and poked Pansy, who'd been in conversation with George.

Ginny then pointed. Pansy's distracted gaze first fell on Hermione, then darted to Draco behind her. Her eyes widened as she noticed their hands joined.

Draco sucked in a breath. "Here we go."

Pansy stood up. "No! Shut up! Stop it! What!?"

Hermione and Draco had reached the small group, which she saw comprised Harry and Ginny, Ron and Pansy, George and Luna, and Charlie.

Pansy flung her arms around Hermione's neck, crushing her in a tight hug. In the process, she let go of Draco's hand. Pansy then whipped back and held her at arm's length. "It's about bloody time is all I can say."

Then she turned to Draco and her demeanor changed. She softened, her eyes almost misty as she gave him a very different hug. It was long and friendly. When they parted, she smiled kindly. "Draco."

"Hey, Pansy."

Hermione didn't hear anything else because Ginny was there next, also giving her a hug. She whispered, "I can't wait to hear everything! And I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

"Yes! Sit!" George pointed to an empty space between Charlie and Luna. "Budge over, everyone! Make room, make room." George beamed at them. "Looks like another Weasley's Valentine's speed dating extravaganza success story!"

Ginny snorted. "Have there been others?"

George looped his arm around Luna. "You're looking at one!"

Ron rolled his eyes and looked at Hermione with a skeptical expression. "So anyway. You two? I mean... who saw that coming?"

Collectively, Harry, Pansy, Ginny, and Luna all raised their hands. Ron gaped at them. "What? How?" He turned to Pansy as though she'd betrayed him. "Why didn't you warn me? What happened with Flint?"

Pansy patted his leg condescendingly. "I love you, Ron, but you would have said something disastrous."

Everyone laughed and Ron scowled for a moment before joining in.

Hermione felt Draco stiffen slightly at the mention of Marcus, but he said nothing, only held her hand more securely. As though she had any interest in anything but him.

"Well? How long has this been going on?" Ron crossed his arms, but his scowl softened. not in an unfriendly way.

"About a month." Hermione winced slightly as her friends all shouted varying shades of incredulity. "But we had a lot to work through, some people to tell, before we were ready to tell everyone."

Charlie cleared his throat. "So does this mean it's public knowledge now?"

Hermione nodded, smiling at him, and his eyes lit up. "We aren't going to make any sort of official proclamation about it, but I have a plan."

"You do?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "Were you going to tell me the plan?"

"Yes. Eventually. It's nothing, really, just a gentle path toward the truth getting out." At his continued pretend skepticism, she squeezed his hand. "Don't you trust me?"

"Oh, ho! That right there is dangerous, Malfoy!" Ron slapped his leg in amusement.

"Of course he does." Pansy gave Ron a sharp look. "But anyway, what I want to know is, who broke first? Who crossed the line?"

Draco sighed dramatically. "I suppose that was me. I'd reached the breaking point."

Pansy clapped her hands together. "My money was on Hermione. Oh well. It's fine, that's what matters."

"I knew it would be him." Harry sent his partner a knowing, smug look. "Knew he was at his end. Hermione can suffer through discontent better than anyone I know."

They all laughed again.

"It was obvious to me when I saw them together at George's Valentine's party," Luna chimed in. "You could have cut the tension with a knife. She was oblivious, of course, but Draco, you were practically walking around with a sign over your head. And when you left after finishing our row... I don't know how she didn't get it then."

It was Hermione's turn to blush. "I wasn't thinking of him that way!"

"So, is this it, then?" Draco asked, eyes on Ron. "Will there be some sort of dressing down? A scolding? A scathing 'hurt her and we hurt you' talk?"

Ron shrugged and put his arm around Pansy. "Not from me. If PansyHermione's vetted you, I can't do any better than that."

Pansy gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "You are so getting lucky tonight for that."

Everyone laughed as Ron blushed crimson, though he grinned at Pansy nonetheless.

Just then, Molly Weasley's voice could be heard calling out to everyone: "Time to eat! Come on and help!"

The next ten minutes were a chaotic jumble of preparation. Tables were procured and set, food was brought out, and drinks were served. The Weasleys had this process down to a science, but it still felt and looked completely random.

There were two seats together when Hermione was able to sit, and Percy started to sit in the other one.

Ginny reached over and waved him away. "That's for Malfoy, Perce. Go on. Shoo."

Everyone at the table, who hadn't been around for the news earlier, turned as one to watch Draco sink into the spot beside her.

Fleur made a breathy gasp. "Oh, Hermione! Are zee two of you togezehr?"

Hermione nodded, trying to project nonchalance despite the burning in her cheeks. "Yes."

Molly broke into a wide smile and turned to Arthur. "I told you so. I believe you owe me ten Galleons." The entire table roared with shocked laughter. Molly held her hand out to her husband. "Come on, now. Pay up! You too, Bill."

Bill grudgingly pulled a handful of coins out of his pocket. "I bet he'd be the one. Was I right?" He looked at Draco.

The very tips of his cheeks turned pink but he didn't blink. "Technically, yes. Though it was purely an act of self-preservation. None of the ill-conceived bravery you lot are famous for."

Bill grinned smugly and pocketed his coins once more.

Ginny's eyes went wide, and she pointed at Hermione. "Wait, now. You kissed him first!"

There were a dozen gasps. Draco chuckled and downed a full glass of wine.

Fleur stood with a triumphant shriek. "Yes! I knew you would do it, Hermione!" She held out her hand and flapped her fingers. "Pay up!"

Bill, Arthur, Charlie, Percy, and even Molly handed Fleur what she was due.

"Sorry about that!" Molly said, somewhat sheepishly. "Congratulations, you two!"

The meal began amongst laughter and general well wishes.

Pansy, however, was staring at Hermione, her eyes narrowed slightly. "You've been withholding, and I don't appreciate it one bit."

Hermione winced but Draco spoke up. "Pansy, like it or not, you aren't the center of everyone's universe. Besides, you were in my ear about Hermione and me every time you saw me. There's no way you'd have been able to keep it quiet. You know what you mean to me, Pans, and you know I'd have seen through any attempts to hide."

She huffed. "Fine. You're right." With a quick glance around, she leaned forward to speak to Hermione. "We need dinner. You, me, and Ginny. As soon as possible, are we clear?"

"Yes. I'd love that." It would be fun to talk about her relationship with Draco, and she was happy to get to share her happiness with both her friends.

Draco was caught up in a conversation about Quidditch, and before she knew it, the meal was over.

Later, when all the buzz around her new relationship had died down, Harry found her catching a moment alone. He sat down on the ground beside her, knees drawn up to his chest. After a moment, he nudged her with his shoulder.

"So what happens now?"

"What do you mean?" She gave him a surprised look. "Happens with Draco?"

"Oh, no. What happens with _him_ is really obvious. You two will end up like Ron and Pansy, getting engaged in three months. I was referring to _you_. You've been without a job now for, what? Almost two months? I know you, and that isn't a good place to be."

Hermione sighed and picked at some grass. "You're right. Though, I've been awfully distracted most of those two months." She sought Draco out in the garden area and found him laughing at something George had just said. "But I really ought to start thinking about my future. The thing is, Harry… I have no idea! I'd thought the Ministry was the place for me, but that didn't last long."

"You enjoy what you do with Narcissa. Maybe you should join the board?"

"I don't think I can? Not of hers, at least. She sort of offered me a position with the Foundation, but that's not a long-term solution."

Harry was quiet for a moment. "You were really alive when you were working for the pixies. Is there any way to do something similar?"

She shrugged. "All I really did was find someone who knew the ins and outs of wizarding law who could help me navigate the system and advocate for the pixies. I brought the case, but Jenkins did all the work."

"Could you do what he does?"

"What? You mean become a solicitor?" The idea had truly never occurred to her, even though it seemed like a logical step if she wanted to help magical creatures in some meaningful way. If she couldn't change the laws from within the Ministry, she could challenge them from the outside.

"Why not? It's not like it would be hard. And you love to do research."

Her heart started pounding very fast. "Harry! I think you might be onto something!" Another glance at Draco found him talking with one of Bill and Fleur's children. What would this mean for her brand new relationship? "Don't say anything to anyone."

"And by anyone, you mean Draco." Harry chuckled. "The secrets you two have asked me to keep."

"It's not for long. I just… I need to think about this."

"Yeah, yeah, sure. I won't tell him."

"Thank you, Harry. I mean it. Really."

* * *

**Monday, 20 NOVEMBER**

There was a knock on Hermione's door. She was so full of anxious anticipation that she jumped at the sound, laughing at herself as she went to answer it. Only, she didn't open the door just yet, instead speaking to her caller.

"Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Um, I need you to close your eyes."

"Alright. They're closed."

Hermione checked the peephole, then slowly turned the knob. "Keep them closed. I'm going to lead you inside."

He nodded. She took his hand and pulled until she could close the door behind him. Then she took a few steps away and faced him, bouncing with excitement. "Okay. When you open your eyes, you'll find out what we're doing for our date. Go ahead."

Draco slowly opened his eyes, and his mouth spread into a wide grin. "Quidditch?" He dragged his gaze up and down, taking in the oversized Quidditch jersey she wore for the Falmouth Falcons. Denims and trainers completed the outfit. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail fitted through a ball cap which also sported the Falcons logo.

"Yes! I was able to get excellent seats for the Falcons game tonight in Falmouth." She grabbed her beaded bag and joined him, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. "Shall we go? Oh, no, wait." Opening her bag, she stuck in her arm and brought out a gray flag for the Falcons and handed it to him. "I got you this."

He chuckled and whipped his arm out to pull her closer. "I can't wait. But I'd like to give you a proper kiss first, if that's alright with you."

She nodded vigorously.

She loved the feel of his arms around her, holding her right where he wanted her, possessive and unrepentant as he kissed her. It was an intense, passionate kiss that quickly left her knees wobbly, and he ended it by nipping playfully on her bottom lip. "There. You look properly snogged."

"That's excellent, actually." Not wanting to step away yet, eager to stoke the fire he'd kindled, she kissed him again. "It will work nicely with my plan."

He froze and gave her a skeptical look. "Your plan?"

"Mmhmm. My plan for slowly introducing us to the wizarding world at large. Don't worry, it's not outlandish. You won't do anything you don't want to do. But come on, we can talk while we find our seats. Ready to Apparate?"

"Yes. But I'll be honest, I've heard about some of your plans. I'm slightly terrified."

She shook her head, eyes sparkling. "Don't be! Promise. Let's go!"

When they'd shown their tickets to the attendant, she directed them toward the top seats. Draco effortlessly took her hand, threading his fingers with hers, and they started in the direction they'd been sent.

"Well, let's have it then." He gave her hand a squeeze.

"Yes. Alright. We need to be seen in public together, right? So a Quidditch game is a great opportunity. There will be lots of people here, especially tonight, since the Magpies are doing so well. We're bound to be noticed by someone. I've given this a lot of thought, and I think the trick is to be subtle. We don't want to jump out and call a lot of attention to ourselves, but at the same time, we need the general public to know. For Astoria, if nothing else."

"So far, I follow you."

"See? It's nothing sinister. We'll just slowly be out in public together until it really catches on, and then we can be less intentional about what we do." They'd reached their level and were now looking for their seats.

Draco spotted their row and pointed toward the middle. "Looks like we've got to get past a few people."

"You go first."

Their seats were fantastic, some of the best in the stadium. Draco looked around him, his expression one of delight. She'd known that a Quidditch match would be excellent from a publicity point of view, but also that he would likely really enjoy it. When the thought had occurred to her, it had been an obvious choice.

"Where did you get the tickets?" He was watching the scoreboard carefully.

"A friend got them for me."

He shot her a look. "Krum?"

"Yes, Viktor. He's got connections everywhere in the Quidditch world."

A shadow passed over his face.

Hermione pulled his hand into her lap. "Draco, I was fifteen. You're not seriously jealous of Viktor."

"Maybe you were fifteen at the Yule Ball, but it was only last month that he escorted you to the fundraiser." He started to rub his thumb absently against her skin, sending little jolts along her nerves.

"Where you and I proceeded to kiss on the balcony." She nudged him with her shoulder. "I assure you, Viktor is only a friend. He's been a friend for more years than I can count. But Ron could never quite get past it, and it was always a sore point between us. I refused to give up the friendship, and Ron refused to accept it." She gave him a pointed look. "Don't be like Ron."

Draco made a face. "The very idea is horrible. Alright, then. I won't be jealous of Viktor Krum."

"Good." She smiled, then gave him a quick kiss before settling comfortably against him.

The game started soon after, and it was one of the most exciting she'd ever been to. The Montrose Magpies was something of a breakout team in the league that year, a team nobody expected to do well at all. Draco seemed to know everything about both teams, and he spent most of the time regaling her with background stories on the players, which she enjoyed immensely. She was able to surprise him with her knowledge of the game, though it could only go so far considering she'd never really played it. Pick-up games at The Burrow weren't the best opportunities for learning the finer details of strategy.

Hermione's plan to get them noticed, however, had involved slightly more than simply appearing at a game with him. During a time out in the second hour, images from the audience began to appear on the scoreboard, and the people featured would wave excitedly when they noticed they were on the screen. Hermione had requested to be shown at some point during the game, and when she saw herself with Draco, she grabbed his arm and pointed.

He laughed, then pulled her in for a searing kiss. The crowd whooped and whistled for them before the camera moved on to someone else.

Once he knew they weren't visible anymore, he ended it, a smirk on his face. "I know you did that on purpose."

"And you cooperated nicely without me even having to mention it!" She preened triumphantly.

He chuckled, resting his arm around her. "I have a feeling there will be tongues wagging before the hour is up."

"What matters is that it makes it into the papers tomorrow." She leaned her head against him, her smile wide. Astoria's mother would see, which would hopefully set in motion the ability for her daughter to openly date Charlie Weasley. But it was more than that. She was anxious to see how Draco would respond to the open criticisms of their relationship that she knew were sure to come. They may come in the form of newspaper articles, opinion columns in gossip magazines, or backhanded comments from acquaintances, but it was inevitable.

The game lasted nearly four hours. Hermione was exhausted by the time it was over, and she felt bad because she knew Draco had to be at work the next morning. She yawned as they stood and stretched before they started to make their way out. Draco offered to escort her home via Side-Along Apparition, and they landed in her flat.

Hermione yawned again. "I'm so sorry, Draco. I hope your day at work tomorrow isn't unpleasant because you're too tired."

He chuckled. "That's what coffee is for, remember? Besides, that was an epic game. I saw at least two other Aurors from my department there, so I won't be the only one."

"I had a really nice time. Thank you for coming with me." She smiled sleepily at him.

Draco shoved his hands into his pockets. "I know I've said this before, but someday you're really going to believe me. If you want me around, even for something as mundane as grocery shopping or as unpleasant as a trip to the bank, I will be there. Now that I know you want me—"

She grinned and interrupted. "I know. Wild thestrals couldn't keep you away."

Draco nodded and kissed her forehead.

The thought flitted through her mind that it would be so nice to fall asleep in his arms, but tonight wasn't the right time.

She smiled up at him. "I do believe you. And I hope that work goes well. You're in charge of the next date, by the way."

He chuckled and tapped his temple. "I'm already way ahead of you." It looked like he wanted to say something more, but instead he kissed her quickly, gave a small wave, and Disapparated.

* * *

**Friday, 24 NOVEMBER**

_Hermione,_

_Come and have lunch with me at the Ministry on Friday. They're serving your favorite._

_Love,  
Harry  
_

Hermione was anxious about returning to the Ministry. It would be her first time back since losing her case—and her job—and she did not know what to expect. However, nobody gave her any strange looks as she entered, turned in her wand for inspection, and continued toward the cafeteria.

Automatically she got into the queue, paid her handful of Sickles, and started loading her tray. She got two plates of her favorite dish and then noticed with excitement that they were also serving strawberry ice cream.

She had been at the table she and Harry usually shared for less than two minutes when he arrived. But it wasn't only Harry; Draco had come, too.

"Hi!" She stood and gave Draco a quick hug, which he returned.

"I'm not staying, of course. I just wanted to say hello." Draco's smile for her was warm.

Harry was grinning from ear to ear as he looked between the two of them. "Right, then, Malfoy. Don't you have some reports to work on?"

Draco scowled. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you left me a mess on purpose."

Harry feigned hurt. "You wound me with such an accusation! But, if you were correct, I needed to make sure you wouldn't come and interrupt my lunch." He turned to Hermione. "After all, I know you'd want to be sure I didn't leave any details out of those reports. I mean, it did take you a few weeks to tell me the truth. I'm not sure that quite fits the terms of our bargain."

Draco gritted his teeth. "You mean the one where you wheedled a confession out of me against my wishes?"

"Yeah, that's the one." Harry set his tray down and made a shooing motion with his hands. "Later, Malfoy. See you after lunch. My nice, long, informative lunch."

Draco rolled his eyes and, with a brief look Hermione's way, waved and left.

Then Harry turned Hermione. "So, remember when I asked you if there was anything you wanted to tell me a few weeks ago? Apparently, there was."

Hermione, who had been privy to all the details concerning this bargain between Draco and Harry and who also knew exactly how the conversation where Draco fulfilled his end went down, gave him a smirk. "No, there wasn't anything I wanted to tell you at that time. And I know that Draco has told you the reasons for the delay."

Harry shrugged.

Hermione continued. "You were still the first person he told. His mother figured it out, and I told Astoria. That was the only thing I asked of him, and I have my own reasons for it."

"Oh, I accept the order of the information being bestowed. It's simply that he could have come to me much sooner."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "We're only talking a difference of a few days? What does it really matter?'

Harry waved one hand dismissively. "Yeah, I don't really care. I'm just milking this for all that I possibly can with him. And, of course, he didn't give me any details. I don't want a ton of details, mind you, but a few would be nice. For example you kissed him—please, no more information on that—and then what happened?"

Hermione sighed and launched into the story of her feelings of shame after that night she'd first kissed Draco. She told Harry all the details from the fundraiser and how it led to them finally communicating.

"It's about bloody time, that's all I can say." He paused. "Are you happy, then?"

She didn't even try to stop the smile from spreading across her face. "Very much."

Harry nodded once. "Good. Now he won't be so mopey all the time. And he'll stay in one place! You realize, don't you, that he went all over the world to get away from you?"

"What?"

"You remember all that work traveling he did earlier this year. He might have _said_ it was to do research for his Hogwarts plans, but mainly he felt he needed some space from how oblivious you were."

Hermione shook her head, giving him a severe look. "That may have been some of it. The trip certainly accomplished both things. I felt the distance he wanted to put between us." Then she sat up straight and carefully prepared a bite of food. "Besides, it didn't work, anyway. He didn't get over me."

Harry laughed. "No. No he didn't. He was still just as mopey when he got back. At least about you. Listen, Hermione, I'm really happy for you. I've been hoping this would happen for a long time because I've seen you together and I knew you'd be a good match. That's all I really wanted to say. Just wanted to drag you down here for old times' sake."

"I'm glad you did. I miss our regular Friday lunch dates. And I am rather glad Draco won't be traveling all over the world again, as well." She put down her fork and took a drink. "But enough about me! I want to hear about Eloise! And how is James doing? How is Ginny adjusting to two kids?"

Harry's expression brightened and he had no shortage of updates for her. The rest of the meal passed quickly, and before she knew it, he was heading back to work.

* * *

**Sunday, 26 NOVEMBER**

Hermione spent the morning cleaning her flat. It had been a while, and it was overdue for a nice, deep cleaning. The sun was shining, letting brilliant golden beams of light into her home, and she hummed as she worked.

The efforts she'd taken on her second date with Draco had paid off: there were pictures and an endless stream of articles about them, the speculation running rampant. She'd turned down four requests for comment; apparently one instance of being seen in public together, including a resounding kiss on the large screen at the game, was enough to send the gossip mongers into a frenzy.

Not to mention Draco's typical reticence to be in the spotlight at all made his sudden appearance all the more interesting.

There was a full spectrum of commentary. Some people were stunned by the differences in blood status. Many lauded Draco and the strides he'd made since childhood. Hermione was considered the luckiest woman alive to have bagged Witch Weekly's sexiest man in England, three years running—to say nothing of his untold wealth and social standing.

Draco didn't read a word of it, but Hermione did, secretly noting his reactions whenever she read him an excerpt.

It was ridiculous, she realized after the third instance. He truly didn't care what anyone said about him or their relationship, and though she continued to regale him with increasingly outrageous theories being spun about them, she no longer felt a trace of doubt.

For some reason—perhaps it had been the wizarding societal blood prejudice forced on her since the age of twelve—she had needed to see his reactions to what other people were saying.

Now, there was only the future.

And she was ready—for everything.

By the time Draco knocked on her door at two that afternoon, the entire flat was spotless and she had taken a shower, dressed for a fun outing, and even done her hair.

He noticed immediately, an appreciative smile on his lips. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you. Where are we going?" She closed and locked her door.

Draco took her hand. "I thought we'd kill two birds with one stone. I have meticulously planned a date to Diagon Alley where we will act however we want and be seen by lots and lots of people."

Hermione laughed. "That's perfect! Ooh, I've been meaning to stop in at Flourish and Blotts all week but Pansy has kept me so busy."

"Good then. Shall we?"

As per their agreement, they didn't discuss their past, though she didn't have too many lingering questions or concerns. They spent the entire day walking around, going into some shops she'd never been in, having a sumptuous high tea in the back garden of the nicest tea shop, and generally enjoying each other.

As evening neared and the sun set, lights came on all along the street, and it lent an atmosphere of magic of a different kind. She loved tucking herself close to him as they walked and talked with no destination in mind.

She even managed to forget, for a time, what lingered in the back of her mind.

Before she knew it, dinner time arrived.

"What do you say I pop back to my flat and change? Then we could go somewhere nice for dinner. Unless you had another plan?"

Draco was perusing the shelves at Flourish and Blotts—their second visit of the day. Without missing a beat, he took a book off the shelf and nodded. "My only plan for today was to be with you."

"What's that?" She pointed to the book in his hands.

After checking out the cover, he chuckled. " _Love, Eternal._ It's the gripping story of a pureblood prince who falls in love with a Muggle-born peasant. My mother has actually read this one."

Hermione made a face. "There are stories like that?"

"Oh, there are all kinds of stories out there. The theme of this one, though, is acceptance. The peasant has to accept the prince for who he is. You see, he's not all bad just because he's rich." He replaced the book and smiled at her, then gave her a once-over. "Dinner sounds wonderful. But I don't think you need to change."

"Thank you, but I was hoping to try that new Italian place?" It was a very upscale restaurant; she had already made a reservation.

He glanced down at himself. "Do I need to put on something different?"

"No, you look remarkably dashing." It was true; his effortless style and casual grace meant he could go anywhere. "Why don't I meet you back here in about ten minutes?"

"Sure, that sounds great." He was a little distracted, thinking nothing of her idea.

_Good._

Hermione hurried to her flat, pulling clothes off as she rushed to her room. She'd laid everything out so it would be an easy switch, going from an everyday ensemble to an evening gown. With a twirl of her wand, she set her curls to work, twisting it up into a sleek bun, while she applied a tiny bit of makeup and fastened on a simple necklace. Feeling more anxious than she cared to admit, she pulled on her dress. It was one she'd seen while out trying on bridesmaid's dresses with Pansy, who had insisted on buying it for her as a thank you. She'd winked, knowing exactly what sort of occasion Hermione would wear it for.

It was a dark blue dress with a flouncy skirt and v-neck that showed a good deal more skin than she was used to. The bodice was fitted, and thin straps held it on her shoulders.

The pendant of her necklace fell just between her breasts, the cold of the metal a starling sensation after feeling like she was on fire.

_Tonight_.

Hermione was satisfied with what she saw in the mirror and wrapped up for warmth, then headed back to the book shop to meet Draco.

He was standing outside it, leaning against the wall holding a bag of purchases on one arm and one of his new books open in the opposite hand. Hermione watched four different women check him out as they walked past, but he seemed oblivious.

With a smile, she approached. "Hey, I'm ready."

Draco shut the book, and it took a second for his brain to register the changes in her look. His eyes widened slightly and he stood up straight. "Wow. That was fast."

"Let's go, yeah?"

He quickly put the book in the bag with the rest and held out his arm for her to take.

The restaurant wasn't a far walk, and once they were inside, Draco gave the host his name. They were seated immediately.

Hermione started to remove her outer cloak, and Draco rushed over to help. Her heart started beating very fast with the anticipation of him seeing her in the dress for the first time.

When he slid the cloak off her shoulders, she heard his breath stutter very slightly. But the host was waiting, so he merely held it while she shrugged out of it.

An attendant rushed over from somewhere and took it to the cloak check, allowing Draco to help Hermione into her chair.

Once he'd sat down, the host gave them menus and left.

Hermione summoned her courage and looked at him. His gaze was hot on her, his eyes more intense than she'd ever seen before.

After a moment, he cleared his throat. "Merlin, Hermione. If you were beautiful before, there isn't a word capable of expressing how you look now."

"I wanted to dress up for dinner. Thank you for indulging me.'

He shook his head with a wry chuckle. "Any time, Granger."

The way he said her name made her shiver slightly, and she wondered about his use of her surname.

Thankfully, dinner went very smoothly. She mostly forgot her nerves, and Draco didn't seem all that affected by the ample amount of skin she was showing. If he was, he was doing a great job of hiding it.

Part of her wanted to see some sign, some indication that he had noticed her efforts to look especially nice for him. But so far, beyond his initial reaction upon seeing her, he hadn't given any indication.

Not that she wanted him pawing at her under the table. Just... some suggestion that he _noticed_.

After dinner, which was long and unhurried and included plenty of wine, they ordered dessert and sat and talked for another hour.

Finally, Hermione yawned too many times, and Draco requested their bill and her cloak. He refused to let her touch the former, then helped her into the latter.

"I'll walk you home," he said, slipping his hand down to hers.

"Thank you." She leaned her head against him, everything rushing back in an intense whooshing feeling in her gut, now that the evening was drawing to a close.

She didn't say much as they walked, and Draco didn't seem to be in a hurry. Still, they inevitably reached her building, and he opened the door to let her in. They climbed the two flights of stairs until they arrived at her landing.

Outside her door, Hermione faced him. "I had a wonderful time tonight, Draco."

"Me too. I always do." He cocked his head slightly. "Everything okay?"

"What? Why do you ask?" It came out breathier than she'd intended, but his question had caught her off guard.

He shrugged. "You've seemed a bit distracted. If there's anything I can do to help, let me know."

Hermione bit her lip. She'd done this sort of thing before—not a whole lot, granted—but she had never been the one to instigate it. He wasn't even trying to kiss her, for Merlin's sake! He was... _interested_ in her, right?

Heart pounding in her ears, a thought struck. "Actually, there is something you can do. Would you mind coming inside?"

"No, not at all."

She quickly unlocked her door and hurried through, closing it once he had followed. His hands were loosely tucked into his pockets, and he seemed perfectly at ease. It wasn't fair that she was so on edge!

"What can I do?"

Hermione was nearing a panic now. She desperately cast about, trying to find something to say but failing to come up with anything that might lead him down the path she wanted him on.

She'd need to be direct, it would seem.

Straightening her shoulders, she began removing her cloak. "I need your help with something." She tossed the cloak onto the sofa, then casually let her hair fall out of its styling.

His eyes widened slightly, and she thought she detected a sharp, quiet hiss. "Anything."

"I want your help with this dress." She boldly looked him in the eye, refusing to consider that he wouldn't want to do this. "It's this zipper. Gets stuck. I need your help getting it off."

Draco stared at her for a heartbeat.

Then slowly, just as unhurried as earlier, he walked toward her. Something flickered in his eyes before it was shut away, and she wondered at his reaction.

Then he was before her, and he raised his hands to rest them on her arms. His gaze was intense, and she felt on fire where he touched her. But gently, he spun her around, lowering his hands down her arms.

The zipper was about midway down her back, just below her shoulder blades. Nothing happened right away. She tried to be patient, but her nerves nearly failed her. "If... If you want to, of course."

He said nothing but stepped closer, near enough she could feel some of his warmth. With painstaking care, he lifted her hair and swept it to one side, draping it over her shoulder and drawing his hand lightly across the plane of her back.

Hermione shut her eyes, a shiver jolting through her.

His fingers trailed down her spine until they reached the level of the zipper, and he began to slowly, carefully, pull it down.

Her heart was racing as he reached the end. He let his fingers drift lightly along her spine again, pausing when he reached the lacy, gold strap of the lingerie she'd bought just for this occasion. Resuming their path, he reached her waist, then seemed to hesitate.

"Hermione." His voice was scratchy, as though his throat was dry.

She swallowed hard. "Yes?"

"What exactly do you want to happen now?"

Gathering all her courage, she turned around. "I want you to stay the night. And all that that entails."

His eyes flashed, and he stepped into her, one hand coming up to cup her jaw. He brushed his thumb along the apple of her cheek, his eyes searching hers. He lowered his head and pressed a feather light kiss to her lips. "Then I suppose we'd better get this dress off."

* * *

**Monday, 27 NOVEMBER**

When Hermione woke the next morning, it took her only a fraction of a second to remember the night before. She smiled as she registered his warmth beside her.

It had been incredible. She shut her eyes tight, replaying some of the things he'd said and done, blushing as she did so.

She couldn't see the clock from where she was, but she thought it must be close to sunrise. If Draco didn't wake on his own, she'd have to do it to ensure he got to work on time. Choosing a Sunday night for their first time wasn't optimal, because they couldn't just lounge the next day away.

Not that she would trade it for anything.

She listened to the sound of him breathing, then her body forced her to get up. As carefully as possible, she slid out of bed, grabbing a jumper as she went. After using the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and generally cleaned up.

When she returned to her room, she found Draco sitting up, staring blearily at the wall. He'd started a fire; she went to it to warm her hands.

"Good morning."

He was looking at her with unabashed desire, and she blushed again, rubbing her hands together. "Hi."

He took a deep breath, and dragged a hand through his tousled hair before he yawned, then scanned the room for his trousers. When he spotted them, he stood up, and Hermione blatantly stared at the sight of him in only his shorts. She had put on proper pajamas before they'd gone to sleep. He smirked as he tugged his trousers on, then yawned again, somewhat ruining the effect.

She laughed.

They _had_ talked late into the night, about nothings and little things, misunderstandings and brand new things.

"I'll put on a kettle."

Quicker than she had thought possible, he'd crossed to her side and grabbed her wrist, preventing her from heading to the kitchen.

"Wait." Then he tugged her close, his hands on her hips, and dipped his head to give her the best good morning kiss she'd ever received. It left her breathless and a bit light-headed when he ended it, his eyes wide open and unveiled. In them she saw raw passion, which she'd had never seen from him until the night before when it was on display with every kiss, every touch.

Swallowing hard, she looked at the clock; it read just after seven-thirty "What time do you need to be at work?"

"I need to be at my desk at eight-thirty. I usually arrive fifteen minutes before that, just to be sure." He sighed. "My badge and things are at the Manor, though, so I'll need to pop over and get them."

"I'll go start that kettle now."

He nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "I'll be right behind you."

Hermione began bustling around the kitchen. She'd planned for a morning together and started preparing breakfast. It was simple, but the act of getting food ready for him made her swell with happiness.

He emerged from her room when she was halfway through, standing over the stove and pushing some sausage around in a pan.

"Smells amazing." He stopped behind her, put his hands on her waist, moved her hair out of his way, and kissed her neck.

"Careful," she teased. "If you keep that up, you'll be late to work."

He chuckled against her skin. "Hang work, then."

Hermione smiled to herself. "As lovely as that sounds, I've got questions for you this morning."

"Why does that not surprise me?" He took a step back.

"So, um, about last night." She bit her lip; this was much easier in her mind. At least her back was still to him so he couldn't see her cheeks redden. "I wasn't sure you were interested. At first."

" _What?_ "

He sounded so incredulous that she turned around. His eyes were wide, mouth gaping at her.

"You didn't think I was _interested?_ In sleeping with you? Is that really what you just suggested? Because that's the most absurd thing I've ever heard in my life."

Considering everything that had happened the night before, it did sound ridiculous when she said it out loud. Still, the fears from before lingered.

"I only meant that it felt like I had to spell it out for you," she said, somewhat defensive.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, tucking his other hand into his pocket. "Hermione. Let me be abundantly clear. I've been in love with you for a year. Did you honestly doubt that I'd want to sleep with you?"

"You didn't even seem keen to kiss me last night."

He pursed his lips, the tips of his cheeks turning slightly pink. "I see. I suppose this is my fault for not being more communicative. I won't make that mistake again. I assumed you'd know I wanted you. That, given the slightest encouragement, I'd do anything, and I mean that word completely and absolutely. _Anything_. I didn't think you were ready for more, though, so I made every effort not to appear like I wanted more. But, for the sake of transparency, let me assure you that I did, indeed, always want more."

He paused long enough to catch his breath. "The last thing I wanted to do was give any hint that I was pressuring you before you were ready. Then all through dinner, you and that—that damn dress... You took my breath away, and all I could think about was taking yours in return. But I wasn't about to assume that, just because you wore a dress that was driving me fucking mad, it meant anything. I had every intention of kissing you goodnight last night, but I had to wait until the last possible moment so I could fortify myself to leave. You will, perhaps, remember how quickly I divested you of the dress once I had your permission."

She did remember.

Vividly.

Before he'd extinguished all possibility for thought, she had observed that he seemed like a man who'd been dying of a thirst which could only be quenched by touching her.

Needless to say, she let him have his fill.

"So that's all, then? It wasn't a lack of interest?"

When he looked ready to explode, she held up her hands in peace.

"Why didn't it seem like you noticed that I'd dressed up for you? Last annoying question, I promise."

He shook his head and huffed in exasperation. "During the war, I became very skilled in hiding, Hermione. I cloaked my reaction and subsequent thoughts because I didn't want to put pressure on you. It wouldn't have quite done to haul you over my shoulder and Apparate straight here once you'd removed your cloak, would it? How would it have helped things if I'd made it obvious how much I wanted to drag you into a back room right then and there?"

Her eyes went wide at the thought.

"Let it be known, going forward, that I will always want to sleep with you. In any situation. In any attire. At any moment. Should the bizarre event arise that, for whatever reason I cannot fathom or foresee, this isn't the case, the remedy is simple: you need only kiss me. And then refer to everything else I just said." He crossed the small space and brought his hand up to her cheek. "I am completely, unequivocally, unreservedly, yours. Have I been clear?"

She nodded, at a loss for words.

He kissed her lightly. "I will make every effort to adjust my actions so as to leave no question about how I feel. Consider this fair notice. I don't want to overwhelm you."

"Something tells me I don't think I'd mind being overwhelmed by you."

Draco smirked and started to lean down again, but he wrinkled his nose instead. "Sausages."

Her eyes flew wide and she spun around, resuming her task of cooking them without burning them further.

The kettle started boiling. "Draco, would you do that? Cups are next to the fridge, cream is inside, sugar on the counter."

Five minutes later, they were sitting down to eat, knowing it would be somewhat rushed.

"I hope you're not too tired today."

"I'll be fine. Coffee, remember? It's one thing Potter does remarkably well. He claims it's because the Muggles made him brew theirs every morning. Though, I may have a kip after work." He chewed thoughtfully. "Do you have plans tonight?"

"I'm helping Pansy with wedding things. But I'll see you soon."

He set his empty cup down and sighed before standing up. "I should go. I don't want to."

Hermione joined him. "Harry expects you to be around more consistently now. Since, and these are his words, you won't be running around the world to get away from me."

Draco laughed and pulled her into his arms. "I think we ought to make a habit of disappointing him. It wouldn't do for him to get too dependent on my presence."

"Oh? What do you have in mind?"

His eyes flashed playfully. "You mean other than keeping you in bed with me some mornings? I think I'd like to run around the world _with_ you."

"Mm, both of those sound perfect."

He kissed her briefly. "I'll see you."

He stepped away, ready to Disapparate.

"Don't think I didn't notice that you said you're in love with me!" She crossed her arms and grinned.

He stopped mid-turn, his expression containing the intensity of a thousand suns. Then he smirked. "Did I?" Then he was gone.

Hermione let out a long breath, then sat to finish her tea. She was in no hurry and wanted to slowly digest everything that had happened, to savor the memories they'd made.

She couldn't quite believe how far they'd come since the fundraiser. She could easily believe he was in love with her, as much as he could be, at least. For her, falling would be easy. He was already her friend, and she thought him one of the most outstanding men she knew. He was sober-minded, humble, genuine, and hard-working, not to mention snarky and fun and disastrously handsome. She wouldn't be surprised if she was in love with him by the end of the year. Though, if it happened by the weekend, she would also not be shocked.

On further reflection, however, she could see herself falling in love with him by the end of the day, if she happened to see him.

Oh, who was she kidding?

She'd been in love with him for months.


	12. December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was written for the Dramione Fanfiction Writers 2020 Challenge. Every month, they posted a prompt, and the challenge was to write a story using that prompt. I decided in January to write a multi-chapter story, thinking the prompts every month would lend themselves well to such an endeavor. But man, the mods threw some curve balls at me! There was only one month where I couldn't see how to work in the prompt, and that was when I was supposed to "insert myself" into the story. I... had no idea how to do that. But it was allowed for me to use my own prompt, so for that month, my beta gave me a prompt and I worked it in.
> 
> When they started the challenge, we were told that whatever prompt we chose for January would also be our prompt for December. I picked "New Year's Resolutions" because I thought it would go nicely for a story that would span the year. BUT, the mods threw in an extra challenge for this month, and we had to get a randomly generated quote to incorporate. Mine was "Tomorrow is another day." A la Scarlet O'Hara. So, you'll find that somewhere in this chapter.
> 
> And now, I present, the final chapter of this story.
> 
>   
>    
> 

* * *

**Friday, 1 DECEMBER**

Hermione turned the page in her planner feeling a mixture of accomplishment and trepidation. It was the last page: December. There was a smattering of things scheduled so far, most of them related to either Foundation business or Pansy's wedding.

Her art class was on hiatus until the next year, though she wasn't sure she'd be returning. She'd been toying with the idea of devoting her art class evenings to making macarons after how much she'd enjoyed the experience with Draco.

She felt a deep sense of satisfaction at the way her year had progressed. She'd set a goal for herself before the year began, and she had largely succeeded: most of her time had been spent exactly how she wanted. She never once missed the things she'd given up. All the socializing for work and going out with friends or coworkers most nights of the week had been fun ways to pass the time, but they hadn't fueled her soul. One of the best things she'd learned over the year was to focus on the things that enriched her life, and it was such a relief to realize that even small doses of things that truly brought her joy were better than hours of things that didn't.

She'd also learned how much she enjoyed giving her all for something she believed in. There had been times in the past when she'd felt the Ministry could—and should—do better about something, but she'd never pursued it very far. It was hard to find energy to give to something when she spent all of hers in ways that didn't give her any back.

But when the situation with the pixies came up, she'd found plenty of time and space to devote to the project, and that's what she wanted for her future.

There was a little capital "D" in the box for Christmas Day, and it reminded Hermione that she still had no idea what to get Draco. She smiled as she lightly brushed the "D" with her finger, thinking of the past week. It had been nothing short of incredible. All of her fears had been unfounded, and Draco had done an outstanding job of letting her see exactly how he felt—no more walls, no more hiding. After their first night together, he'd finally let her all the way in to experience just how much he cared for her and wanted her.

She had chuckled over the irony that, after her forced attempts at the beginning of the year and her short-lived relationship with Marcus, she had finally given up the idea of falling in love this year, of finding someone to share her time with, only to stumble into the best thing that had ever happened to her.

* * *

**Saturday, 2 DECEMBER**

"Can I just start by saying it took way too long to make this happen?" Pansy slid into a chair, draping her bag across the back of it.

Ginny gave her a pointed look as she settled into her seat. "You are the one busy with wedding planning every single night. It isn't my fault it's been two weeks."

"She's right, Pansy." Hermione opened her menu, more than ready to eat.

Pansy groaned. "It still doesn't change what I said. I mean, so much has happened since that day at The Burrow. They could be engaged for all we know!" She gave Hermione a searching look. "You're not, are you?"

Hermione laughed. "No, Pansy. That would be ridiculously fast. It took you and Ron six months, remember? Draco and I have only been together for a month and a half."

"Well, it wouldn't surprise me." She waved dismissively. "He's fancied you over a year, you two are really good friends, and now you're together—the jump to love here isn't very big."

"More like a hop," Ginny supplied helpfully.

Pansy laughed and gave Ginny an appreciative nod.

They'd been sitting at their table all of two minutes; they hadn't even placed their dinner orders yet, and already they were talking about her and Draco being engaged. It was going to be a long night.

"We're still figuring out what it means to be together."

Pansy closed her menu and fixed Hermione with a piercing stare. "Speaking of you two being together, we are ready to hear all about it."

"Every single, teeny, tiny detail." Ginny grinned.

"Starting with that kiss you didn't tell me about." Pansy arched an eyebrow.

"Let's wait until we've ordered at least, shall we?" Hermione didn't want to have to worry about being interrupted—by strangers, anyway.

Pansy immediately located their server and motioned for him to take their order. As soon as he left, she leaned over the table. "Go on, then."

Hermione began to fill Pansy and Ginny in on everything, starting with what led up to her kissing Draco that first time. Unlike Harry, however, they interrupted frequently.

"Wait—you fell asleep on him? How does that even happen?" Pansy looked extremely skeptical.

"I'd had too much to drink, remember? And in my inebriated state, it made perfect sense to lay on his chest and pass out."

Ginny laughed.

"But then what happened?" Pansy tented her hands under her chin.

Hermione barely got through the part where she sent Draco the note asking him to forget the kiss had ever happened when Pansy slapped the table. "You did _not_. Tell me that's a damn lie, Granger."

"No." Hermione sighed. "Otherwise we might have been together earlier. But, in my defense, he agreed to it."

Pansy rolled her eyes so hard Hermione winced. "You're both dumb. But I've known that since July. Go on."

"Wait, what about July?" Ginny perked up then and gave Pansy a questioning look.

"I've known since July they fancied each other."

"You never said that!" Hermione cried, incredulous.

"I mentioned I'd brought you up to him in February, too, remember? I wasn't going to do all the work for you two!" She turned to Ginny. "I realized it was more than mutual when they both joined me for cake testing. It was so bloody obvious I couldn't speak for a minute." She addressed Hermione again. "And I told you I knew you liked him after that."

Hermione frowned. "Yes, but you said nothing about _him!_ "

"He swore me to secrecy! And he's got an awful Stinging Hex." She tutted slightly. "Not to mention plenty of blackmail material on me, should he get too put out with me."

"But wait a minute. Do you mean, he _told_ you? In July?" This was new. He's never admitted to telling anyone except Harry.

Pansy's expression became one of superiority. "Let's just say we spoke in hypotheticals. He said that, if he did have feelings for you, hypothetically, and I breathed a word of it, he'd find a way to make me suffer. Hypothetically, of course. But I learned a very long time ago that it's dangerous to cross him." She grimaced.

"So he didn't admit it."

"He as good as did." Pansy huffed. "But no, the words 'I'm in love with Hermione' never came out of his mouth. He just kept _not_ denying it in the most outlandish ways possible. Let me tell you, a Slytherin is good for two things: keeping themselves out of trouble and having a very slippery tongue. We can talk around the truth like you wouldn't believe."

Ginny snorted. "I bet she's got other ideas about his tongue."

Pansy howled with laughter, and Hermione blushed, quickly taking a drink from her glass to hide her burning cheeks.

"Anyway. Continue. You were just about to explain why you sent him a note asking him to forget your kiss."

Hermione sighed. "Because I felt... embarrassed! I'd shown up there, uninvited, accusing him and blaming him for things that weren't his fault, then I drank too much and kissed him. I had no idea he had feelings for me, obviously, and I thought he would resent me or feel awkward around me." She buried her face in her hands. "Turns out I was the awkward one who couldn't forget it."

"I can't wait to hear this part." Ginny smirked. "Did you just lose all self control and jump him?"

Pansy snorted. "I like the way you think, Ginny. Did you, Granger?"

Hermione merely rolled her eyes. "No. All I managed to do was make everything awkward." She then proceeded to tell Pansy a few details; Ginny knew a good bit of it already from their conversation before the fundraiser.

Finally she got to the part where they were dancing at the fundraiser and Draco made his little confession. Ginny squealed and Pansy gaped open-mouthed.

" _Then_ you jumped him?" Ginny asked

"No," Hermione said emphatically. "He walked away before I could respond."

"He did _what_?" Pansy rubbed the bridge of her nose and let out a heavy sigh. "I swear, the two of you have used up every last ounce of patience I have ever possessed."

Hermione huffed. "He walked away. He said it, right at the end of a song, and I suppose he thought there was nothing left to say—"

"Maybe because you had just been telling him how embarrassed you were about kissing him?"

Hermione ignored Pansy's outburst. "Don't worry, I immediately went after him. It took a second for his words to sink in, but when I realized what he said, what he meant, I wasn't going to run away anymore. It took me twenty minutes to find him because people kept stopping me to talk, but I finally saw him go out onto a balcony."

Ginny grinned. "And you followed him."

"Yes. absolutely."

"And then you kissed." Ginny tapped the table with her finger for emphasis.

Hermione let out a breath. They didn't need to know _all_ the details. "Yes. Then we kissed."

"For how long and how much? Was there tongue? Where were his hands?" Pansy's eyes were excited, her knuckles white on the table as though she couldn't wait to hear the answer.

Ginny snorted. "Merlin, those hands."

Hermione blushed scarlet. "I don't know how long! A while? It's not like I was timing it. We talked a little, too." She completely ignored the question of his hands. "But then we had to stop because, you know, we were both pretty important to the fundraiser and had to get back to it."

Pansy tutted. "As if Narcissa wouldn't have made excuses for you."

Ginny was more focused on the matter at hand. "And then he took you home, right?"

"No!" Hermione chuckled "I was there with Viktor, remember?"

She waved dismissively "Fine, fine. You… told Viktor to find his own way home?"

Hermione smiled patiently. "No, wrong again."

Pansy's eyes lit up. "You told Draco to meet you at your house!"

"Then you jumped him!" Ginny and Pansy high-fived.

Hermione let out an exasperated huff. "Good grief! No! We didn't sleep together that night!"

Ginny looked slightly deflated. "Fine. I suppose we should let you tell this story."

"Yes, maybe you should." She straightened up after taking a sip from her drink. "Anyway, Viktor took me home and then I went to bed. Draco came over the next morning and—"

"You jumped him in the kitchen?" Ginny gave her a hopeful face.

Pansy shrieked with laughter but Ginny waved her hands. "I'm joking, I'm joking. Now I'm just messing with you."

"If you don't stop interrupting me, I'm going to stop the story." It was a mild threat, but Hermione was beginning to get exasperated.

Both Pansy's and Ginny's eyes went wide. Pansy nodded solemnly and Ginny clamped her hands over her mouth.

"That's more like it," said Hermione. She then gave them a general overview of what happened that day and over the month of November. She kept things nonspecific, but Pansy and Ginny definitely exchanged looks a few times.

"So you've gone through your whole list?"

"I can't believe you made an actual list." Pansy shook her head. "I'm amazed that Draco got through all of that without losing his mind. He really must love you."

Hermione blushed. "I actually tossed the list. Incomplete, I might add. It was fun to talk through some things, look back on the year and clear up misunderstandings, but I got to a point where I didn't need answers to my remaining questions. Maybe I'll find them out as we go along. But I want to move forward. No need to keep looking back."

Ginny patted her arm. "Good. I'm proud of you for that. I bet it was hard."

"Not really. Normally I might have had a hard time letting go, but... after this year of being very intentional with my time in a large sense, meaning how I scheduled my hours, I realized I need that same intention in smaller things. Do I want to spend my time with Draco focused on the past? Or would it be better to leave that alone and focus on the future? I chose the latter."

Pansy smiled proudly. "Good for you. I know you're going to have a long, fabulous relationship."

"They're so sparkly." Ginny turned to Pansy. "Don't you agree? I mean, look at Hermione right now."

Pansy peered intently at her. "Yes! It's your eyes. You never looked like that with Marcus, you know."

Hermione groaned. "I know. I feel really bad about that, too."

"It's okay. You don't owe him anything. You were doing your best, remember?" Ginny smiled warmly. "None of this is easy. Figuring out life, and love, is never straightforward."

Pansy scoffed. "You can't really talk, you know. You married the man you fell for practically the first time you saw him!"

Ginny cringed slightly. "It was vastly more complicated than that, Pansy."

The other woman flapped her hand. "Yeah, I know."

"Harry and I went through a lot before we really got together. But that doesn't mean we didn't know we'd end up together."

"Let's talk about something other than me and Draco, shall we?" Hermione was ready to have the focus not be solely on her. "How are wedding things coming? What do we need to do this week?"

Pansy released a heavy sigh but then launched into a long, detailed rant about the next four items on her to-do list. Between that and Ginny's updates on her kids, followed by a slew of random and amusing topics, they passed the evening.

* * *

**Sunday, 10 DECEMBER  
**  
Hermione felt a little anxious as she waited for Draco to come over. It was now quite a normal habit for him to come over after work and for them to spend the whole evening together.

She knew things were moving quickly, but that didn't surprise her a bit considering how much they had meant to each other before they got together. But there was one thing she'd been keeping quiet about so far, and the time had finally come to tell him.

She jumped at his knock despite the fact that she was anticipating his arrival. He gave her an easy smile and a sweet kiss as he entered her flat, shrugging out of his work robes and pulling off his badge.

"How was your day?" he asked with a tired smile.

"Oh, very good, thanks. And you? How was that meeting you were preparing for?"

Draco shrugged. "It was fine. I'm sorry that I'm so late getting here. Something came up right at the end of the day, and Potter and I had to take care of it."

She waved her hand in the air. "It's no matter. I've just been reading." She glanced toward a little stack of books on the table by her favorite chair, all of which were about wizarding law.

Draco did not follow her gaze, instead getting close so that he could give her a proper kiss. Hermione tried to relax and enjoy it, to shut her mind off for a few minutes, but she couldn't. He realized it very quickly and pulled back to peer at her questioningly.

"What's the matter?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Will you sit with me?" She motioned toward the sofa and, without waiting for an answer, sat down.

Draco scratched his head a little bit nervously. "Yeah, okay. Everything alright?

She folded her hands in her lap. "Yes, everything's fine. There's just something that it's time for me to tell you. Don't get worried, though, it's nothing crazy. But I had this idea. It's really thanks to Harry. He said something at The Burrow weeks ago that got me thinking."

Draco frowned. "What I'm hearing is that if I don't like what you're about to say, it's Potter's fault."

She laughed in surprise. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Anyway, he asked me that day, when we told everybody about us, what I wanted to do next in my life. I told him I didn't know, and he simply observed that I seemed happiest when I was working to help the pixies. And it occurred to me that, rather than trying to work from the inside of the Ministry, maybe I can be most effective working outside of it."

Draco nodded slowly. "Kind of like what the solicitor did when he took your case about the pixies and brought it before the Wizengamot."

"Exactly! I'm interested in learning all of the laws there are and helping magical creatures more from the standpoint of challenging unfair laws than trying to write new ones or rewrite existing laws. I felt like, from the outside, I could bring a lot more attention to things that aren't good or fair. When I worked at the Ministry, they completely shut me down. From the outside, I can utilize resources such as interviews and news articles and things like that in order to bring attention to unfair and unjust systems. What do you think?"

"Well, yeah!" Draco smiled widely. "I think it's perfect, Hermione. What does that mean for you? You can also use the Foundation to raise money for things that you think are worthy."

Hermione shook her head. "No, I want the Foundation to be completely separate. I don't want to be any more involved in it than I am because I don't want there to be any appearance of conflict of interest. And as wonderful as it was that you did so much for the pixies, I don't want the Foundation to prioritize my projects."

"To be fair, we never have before," Draco remarked.

"Oh, I know. And I absolutely love the work the Foundation does. I just don't want to set a precedent that you do things for me. I don't think most people even knew your efforts in October were on my behalf, since the pixie drama remained largely behind the scenes." She huffed; her treatment by the Ministry still stung. "My point is, I really believe that without all of the rules of the Ministry, I can bring important things to light and affect meaningful change."

"I have no doubt that you'll take them by storm. The Ministry won't know what hit it." Then Draco gave her a curious look. "I'm struggling with something, to be honest. I don't understand why you were nervous to tell me that."

She sighed. "It's not that I was nervous to tell you, exactly. It's more that... this is a huge decision for my future, and... I want you in my future. But we're so new at this, I wasn't sure how that would look."

"How do _you_ want it to look?"

"I… I want to make the decision together. Because this affects both of us. Because _us_ is really important to me. And going forward, I want _us_ to do this. Together." Hermione marveled for a moment at how different this was from her brief relationship with Marcus. She never would have considered him in this decision after dating for less than two months.

Though it wasn't really fair to compare the two. In the time she'd been with Draco, she'd already seen him more times that in all the months she'd dated Marcus.

Draco had easily stepped into her life in his new role with very little need for adjustment. She wondered if that was because of their comfortable friendship beforehand or if it was simply that extra something they had together that comes with being with someone who is a true companion.

Maybe that was what made it all feel so sparkly.

The terrifying thing was that it didn't feel all that strange to consider something very long-term with him. In fact, it felt perfectly natural.

Draco smiled, relieved. "I'm happy to help."

Hermione pulled some information out from under the stack of books she'd been reading and handed it to him. "I thought we might look through these together? I've written to a number of organizations all over England about their intern programs. And there are three main centres for learning about wizarding law: London, Edinburgh, and Manchester. The program is about eighteen months, and I can either work part time at a law firm any time after completing the first six, or wait until the program is over. I'd want to start as soon as possible." She paused and bit her lip. "But the program sounds a bit intense. It doesn't sound like I'd have a ton of free time. And if I also took an internship, that might mean I'd have none."

He'd been glancing through the brochures the whole time she'd been talking, though he couldn't have done more than look at the pictures. He set them down and leaned back to look at her. "Which program interests you the most?"

"Ooh, I'm not sure! The London one is supposedly the best, and it's also the biggest. The Manchester program is really known for its International Law Department, which could be fascinating. I think it would be worth looking into how other countries treat their magical creatures beyond the small set of international laws that everyone in the International Magical Confederation agrees to. I believe I could use laws in other countries to highlight areas here that need improvement and to show examples of how other magical communities work with magical creatures. London has a good international program as well, but Manchester's is the best. Edinburgh, while the smallest, boasts a few magical creatures on staff in their Magical Creatures Law division."

Draco waited patiently throughout her rambling and didn't speak right away after she finished. Hermione wrung her hands in her lap, anxious about what he might say.

"It sounds perfect for you, honestly. I would imagine that learning wizarding law would be time intensive." He frowned. "Does that mean I wouldn't see you much?"

Hermione had an answer ready. "I'd see you as much as possible. I think between classes and projects, homework and research, though, it could potentially be less than I see you now." She cringed. "If you don't think this will work, you and me, then I'll try something else. Maybe instead of eighteen months, I could complete it in twice that. Or—"

"No. Don't change your plans. We'll be fine, Hermione." The smile he gave her was completely genuine, not a hint of concern present. "There's no way I'm going to let a little bit of a scheduling issue come between us."

"If you're sure?"

Draco shook his head, chuckling lightly. "I'm completely certain. Remember, I've fancied you for a very long time. Now that you're mine? Why would I risk that? Why would I let you go?"

"I suppose you might come to feel like, after all that time, I'm not quite all that you expected." She hadn't really put her thoughts in order quite that way before, but she discovered now that it was absolutely part of a deep-seated fear about her future plans—about any relationship with him, truthfully. That was always a concern when one person had experienced a long season of pining. When Draco got what he'd wanted, would it be a disappointment?

He let out a long breath and stood up, holding his hand out for her. Hermione let him help her stand, and he stepped very close, his gray eyes boring into hers, expression intense. "Hermione. I want you to hear me very clearly. Yes, I fancied you a long time. And I thought that I knew what it was to love someone."

Her breath hitched.

"But now that I have you?" He shook his head with a wry chuckle. "I didn't know anything. Actually having you… the fact that I can be this close, close enough to touch…" He cupped her cheek with his hand and started lightly rubbing her skin with his thumb. "To kiss…" Just as lightly, he brushed his lips against hers, and Hermione immediately relaxed and let him deepen the kiss. When he started trailing kisses down her neck, she sighed contentedly. But he didn't keep it up for long, returning to briefly kiss her lips once more. "Not to mention… _other things_." He grinned wolfishly.

Hermione smiled and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. He hugged her tight for a moment but then lightly pushed her shoulders back so he could look at her.

"But it's so much more than all of that, good as it is. I get to be the person you tell about your day. I will get to listen to you complain about your assignments or how some professor is an arse or one of your classmates didn't finish their part of the project. I will be with you while you study for tests and write essays, and I can't wait to debate the merits of this law or that with you over breakfast or tea or any other meal of the day."

Her heart felt like it might burst as she reached up to kiss him. "So which program do you think I should do?"

"Manchester." He spoke without hesitation. "Your thoughts on the international aspects are brilliant. You're going to be incredible."

She nodded, her heart racing in the best possible way. "Yeah? I was kind of leaning that way."

"Absolutely. If that's the one you want, I agree completely."

"Alright. But you didn't get to look at the other brochures very much." She bent to retrieve them, but Draco intercepted her, grasping her wrist with a firm yet gentle touch.

"I don't need to look at anymore. Unless you really want me to." He pulled her to him and snaked his arms around her waist.

She glanced back at the stack. "Well, I mean, _I_ want to be sure. The other programs have a lot of good things going for them, too. I want us to be thorough in our research before we make this decision. As I said, it's important to me."

"Uh-huh." He smirked and locked his arms around her, one eyebrow raised. "Here's the thing. Those brochures aren't going anywhere. You don't need to decide right now. I vote that we continue this discussion… later." Then he dipped his head and started kissing along her jaw.

"Later? After dinner?" His breath ghosted over a sensitive spot and she gasped. "Oh! Right, um, after. Yes, all right. And then… we can talk over dinner."

Without responding, Draco took her hand as he led them to her room.

* * *

**Wednesday, 13 DECEMBER  
**  
"Thank you so much for meeting with me." Hermione held out her hand.

Wendy Reinhold was a woman of around fifty, with a bright, crisp kind of smile. She shook Hermione's hand once, motioning for her to sit. "It's my pleasure, Miss Granger, I assure you. When we received your letter, well! We made sure that we could accommodate you in every way you mentioned."

Hermione blinked. "What do you mean?"

"We are so honored that you would want to study law with us that we made room for you in the new class that begins in January." Wendy began shuffling through the things on her desk. "Now where did I put that agreement form? It was just here..."

"What do you mean, you made room for me?" Hermione felt extremely uneasy at the thought that someone had been turned away, after being given a place, because of her.

Wendy pulled an elegant sheaf of parchment from under a stack of books. "Here we are. Don't worry a bit, Miss Granger. All I meant was that we had prepared for eleven students, and admitting you would require some adjustments. Twelve is a nice, round number—makes nice groups, anyway. Now. You said in your letter you were interested in applying, but I can safely say that, once you've completed all the paperwork, you'll be admitted without delay to begin the January session."

Hermione felt a wave of nerves flutter in her stomach. "That's so soon! I didn't expect to be considered until next summer."

Wendy faltered a moment. "If you'd prefer to wait, that's all right, of course. But the place is yours if you want it."

Hermione bit her lip. "I wouldn't be taking someone else's spot, would I?"

"Oh, not at all, dear. We can accept up to sixteen per session. Though we rarely fill all of the spots." She slid the parchment across the desk and stood. "I'll give you a few minutes to read over that. It's very standard, simply an agreement that we will educate you and you will comply with our rules."

Wendy left, shutting the door with a soft click.

Hermione stared at the document, her heart pounding. She hadn't expected this at all and had only requested a meeting so she could learn more about the program, maybe tour the grounds, and ask some questions.

She had decided on her course of action far past the deadlines to apply for the January term, but had wanted to see if there was anything she could do to get started, any advice on getting prepared. She'd even applied at Flourish and Blotts, hoping to work there until the next program started in July.

Yet here she was with the chance to start much sooner, a mere three weeks away. What would Draco think? She thought she should consult him, since she'd said she wanted them to make the decision together.

After going through everything with him, they'd talked through a course of action for her until she could begin a program. In addition to Flourish and Blotts, she'd spend a lot of time with the Foundation, getting some exposure to fundraising and networking, establishing connections that might benefit her in the future.

She was still staring when Wendy returned, handing Hermione a bottle of water. "Any questions?"

"Um, I wasn't expecting this at all. I'm not really prepared to sign this today."

Wendy nodded. "Take your time. I need your answer by the seventeenth. Is that enough time?"

Hermione's mind began spinning but she forced herself to focus; there would be time for sorting through options and variables later. "I think so, yes."

"Good." Wendy stood and Hermione did likewise. "I'm certain you'll take advantage of this offer, and I speak for everyone here when I say that we are excited about the idea of you joining us!"

They shook hands again. "Thank you, Mrs. Reinhold. I will be in touch with you soon."

Hermione left the room still feeling a little dazed and immediately raced back to her flat. She would see Draco after work and they could discuss from there.

**ooo**

The conversation went exactly as she thought it might. He was very supportive and excited for her.

"But this means I'm going to move there. _Soon_. Remember?" She'd expected more of a reaction, if she was honest with herself.

"I say, if you can get started six months earlier, you should do it." He shrugged. "I mean, why not?"

"Well, there's nothing stopping me, of course. Except that we had just come up with a plan for the next six months!" She wanted to hear that it mattered to him that she was considering changing things. There was no doubt in her mind that he'd be fully supportive—that was just the kind of man he was—but deep down, she wanted him to be a little sad that she'd be moving.

"That's true, but none of it was set in stone." He smiled warmly. "I think you should take this, Hermione. It's exactly what you want. And after the year you've had, you deserve to have something go your way."

She slid her hand into his and returned his smile. "The best thing possible already has. But, Draco, I'm going to have to find a place to live! And I only have a few weeks before the session starts!"

"I'm happy to help, you know that."

"I know, and I appreciate it. But… are we ready for this?" She bit her lip. "I'd been a little relieved that we'd get some time to just be together before a major, life-altering event."

"I know, but you won't be that far away, and Apparating is really easy."

Hermione had felt strongly that she wanted to live in Manchester, even though transportation in the magical world was practically instantaneous. It was still easier to pop in to a friend's house who lived down the hall versus going through the trouble of Apparating or using the Floo. She didn't want to be far from the activity, just in case, and Draco had agreed.

Now, though, with the prospect of it happening so much sooner, she felt unsettled with the idea. She was about to mention all of the things he'd described only a few days before, about wanting to be part of her days. But then something occurred to her, an idea that made her breath hitch and her stomach swoop with anticipation. It would have to wait, though; she put that thought in the back of her mind to revisit later.

"If you're sure?"

He grinned and pulled her in for a kiss. "Absolutely. Let's go to dinner to celebrate, yeah? We haven't gone out in a while."

"That sounds nice." Her heart was absolutely full, and she held onto him tightly, unable to quite believe that he was really all hers.

* * *

**Saturday, 16 DECEMBER**

"Where do we begin?"

Hermione spread the map on the table between them, carefully keeping it away from their drinks and plates. She pointed to the area around Cheetham. "The institute is here. I've made a list of twenty flats to see today, spaced thirty minutes apart, beginning at nine with half an hour for lunch."

Draco's eyes went wide. "Twenty?"

She handed him the list. "I'm counting on you to help me. We can always look things over more thoroughly in the Pensieve Harry let me borrow for the weekend. I shrank it and stored it at the bottom of my bag."

He shook his head, incredulous. "Twenty. That's... awfully ambitious, Hermione."

"I know, but I'm determined to find the right flat. I've only got one weekend, after all." It was Saturday, and Draco had accompanied her to Manchester to search for housing. She was glad he was there, since it would ensure that whatever she chose, he would like it, too.

"And tomorrow?" He flipped through the list of properties they were set to visit.

"Twelve, starting in the morning, lunch of course, then a few hours to decide and sign the papers. Unless I find the perfect place today. I've put the most promising ones on today's schedule, so that if I do find something, I can cancel everything tomorrow."

He raised an eyebrow. "And enjoy the day exploring the city?"

"Yes, that sounds lovely." She smiled at him, her breath hitching at the way he was looking at her. "I hope that's how things go."

They had Apparated into the wizarding area of the city, a quaint little square hidden away from Muggles. It was similar to Diagon Alley, but not nearly as busy. Now, they were eating breakfast and preparing for their jaunt into the Muggle part of the city.

"We've got... twenty minutes before the first showing." Draco frowned. "How are we supposed to get from one place to the next?"

"Ooh, that's the fun part." She grinned and pulled a stack of papers from her bag. "I went to the nearest Muggle library to do some research. They have computers, and I used them to find pictures of everywhere we're going so that I could locate good places for Apparition. I'm planning to rent in a Muggle area, though, so we'll need to be very careful."

Draco raised an eyebrow and reached for the top picture. "What is this, then?"

"It's a satellite image of the first flat." She pointed to the number one in the top left corner. "I've marked the best spot to arrive undetected." Then she pointed to a big, red X.

"What, exactly, is a satellite image?"

"Well, I know you're familiar with natural satellites, like the moon. Muggles have sent man-made versions into space to orbit the Earth, and some of them take pictures of what's below."

Draco chuckled. "But why?"

Hermione shrugged. "To spy on each other, find optimal driving routes, see more of the Earth—lots of reasons. But anyway, these will help us move from one place to the next quickly."

He ran a hand through his hair as he glanced at the pile. "Well, I'm… ready. Although, I hope you have some potions on hand. That much Apparating in such close succession could be unpleasant."

She held up her bag and rattled it. "Absolutely prepared."

After finishing their food, they left the restaurant and found an out of the way spot from which to Apparate. Hermione handed him the photo again. "Do you want to Side-Along? Or go separately?"

He gave her a hesitant look. "Let's do it together for the first one."

Hermione nodded and slid her hand through the crook of his elbow. "On the count of three. One, two, three!"

**ooo**

By lunch time, they were exhausted. Each flat was very nice, all having been pre-screened by Hermione, but she was feeling frustrated that none of the seven locations so far had drawn her attention. She'd truly hoped to be finished by lunch, but it seemed they would have to keep going.

They spent their entire break discussing the seven flats from the morning, but she'd only scheduled them half an hour, so it was very rushed.

The remaining thirteen locations flew by in a blur; she couldn't remember which was which or recount any details about any of them. She was relying on her memories to help her, though she didn't think she'd be able to stay awake long enough to review them.

When they got to their hotel room, she collapsed on the bed. "Don't make me move. Please."

Draco set their things down and pulled off his gloves. "Well, which one did you like the best?"

"I didn't love any of them." She rubbed her eyes and curled onto her side. "I was disappointed by that."

"Hermione, you know that I support you in this, but I have to ask…" He sat down on the bed beside her. "Why is it so important that you love it? It's just a place to live for eighteen months while you study wizarding law. Every place we saw today met all of your requirements. It seems as though you could choose based on something like proximity to the wizarding square, or to the school, or… I don't know, your favorite park."

Even though she knew he meant well, his question rankled. Of course, she couldn't tell him exactly _why_ she wanted to love it—and not only her, but him as well. That would spoil her Christmas plans. She'd originally planned to go through her memories and see if there were any that _he_ especially liked, but he had seemed largely indifferent. He'd helped her see the good in each one, as well as brought up things to consider. It was true that they were all technically fine, but it had been her hope that she'd walk into one and just _know_ that it was perfect.

"It's… not that simple."

He sighed. "I didn't think so. Well, what do you want to do now? I can get the Pensieve out."

"No, I think I just want to sleep. We walked so much today, and there's so much to process…" She also had a feeling that seeing everything again wouldn't help. Nothing had stood out.

Draco set the map and list on the little table. "Do you want to talk about what we saw?"

He sounded tired; of course he was, her plan had been ridiculous. But she had only wanted everything to go smoothly, to find the perfect place to live.

"Not really, honestly."

He chuckled and yawned. "We haven't had dinner."

"Let's order takeaway. I saw a place down the road a bit." She pulled the blanket over her, nestling into its warmth.

"I'll go." He smirked.

"That'd be lovely. Just get me what sounds good." She was asleep before the door clicked shut behind him.

And it was the door opening again that woke her. Disoriented for a moment, she looked round, relieved to see Draco briefly silhouetted in the doorway before he closed it.

"I just got fish and chips for both of us."

Hermione stretched, feeling better after her short nap, then sat up. "Thank you. I suppose we can talk while we eat."

"Sure. Do you want to go one by one down the list?"

Hermione eyed the parchment he was scanning. "I don't... I'm not sure. I thought this would be easier."

"What exactly are you looking for?" He pointed to the fifth place they'd seen. "I thought this one was good."

"Oh, they were all perfectly fine." She frowned. "But I suppose... I wanted to walk in to one of them and know immediately that it was the right choice."

Draco chuckled. "It's a flat, Hermione. All of them were nice."

She bit her lip. There were hints of the same tone he'd used when he was upset with her about not accepting his help with the pixies. It wasn't much, and perhaps it was merely his own annoyance coming through. Still, she couldn't help feeling a twinge of irritation, even though it wasn't fair. _He_ didn't know what she was planning—or, not really planning, but thinking. Nothing was even in the planning stage yet. But she didn't see why her thoughts wouldn't become reality.

"I know that." She sat up straighter, deciding she didn't want to discuss it anymore.

"The good news is, we've got a lot more to see." He grinned and motioned toward her list, not noticing that she was feeling slightly put out. "And tomorrow is another day."

She felt ridiculous being annoyed with him, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake it. "Actually, I don't see any point to going over what we saw today."

Draco frowned. "You ought to choose a favorite at least, so that if we have no luck tomorrow, we have a starting point."

"Which one is _your_ favorite?"

"I liked the fifth one best. It had a nice view, and that bathroom was the best of the lot." He shrugged. "But this is your decision."

She huffed. "I know, but... I do expect you to visit occasionally."

"Of course I'll be visiting." He gave her a bewildered look, his tone stiff.

"I'm finished. I think I just want to go to bed." She was truly and completely exhausted, both mentally and physically. Now that she'd eaten, her body was pleading with her for rest.

"Right, of course." He glanced at the bed. "I'm... not quite ready for sleep."

"That's alright." She stood and cleaned up her food mess. "You don't have to turn in now." Sending him a tired smile, she went to the loo and got ready for the night.

Draco was sitting on the edge of the bed when she emerged, his posture stiff. "Is everything alright? I'm afraid I've upset you in some way, but I don't know how. Will you tell me so I can make it right?"

She felt awful. "No, you haven't. It's... just me. I'm utterly exhausted, Draco. Today affected me far more than I could have expected."

"If... you're sure." He clearly didn't believe her. But she couldn't tell him the full truth without ruining her surprise, so she'd have to convince him some other way.

"I am. Very sure." She managed to smile like she meant it—and she truly did.

He stood and watched her get in bed, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Er, will the light bother you?"

"No." She yawned, her eyes already closed. He didn't move for a few minutes, and she was asleep before he'd sat down again.

* * *

**Sunday, 17 DECEMBER** **  
**  
When Hermione woke up, it took her a moment to remember where she was. Then the previous day and evening came back to her, and she shut her eyes with a cringe. Poor Draco. She could have handled the situation better, but in her exhaustion, she'd barely even tried.

She glanced at the clock to see that it was only half five—very early, but not surprising considering how early she'd gone to bed. Draco was beside her; she could feel the warmth of his body, and his presence soothed her, even though his back was to her. No relationship would be perfect; there were bound to be bumps along the way.

It was reassuring, though, to know that he hadn't simply bailed on her. Not that she truly feared he would. It must have been a holdover fear from Ron, who had balked at even the slightest bit of tension. It had made sifting through problems nearly impossible.

The fire had gone out in the room, and she could feel the chill in the air. Even though she didn't feel tired anymore, she had no interest in leaving the warmth of the bed.

Draco shifted, rolling onto his back. She wondered when he'd finally turned in for the night, how tired he was. It was too early to wake up and too cold to get up, so she scooted closer, backing herself toward him slowly. The warmth increased, spreading through her and lulling her back to sleep. She drifted for a few minutes, and just as she felt herself falling back to sleep, Draco rolled over again, this time toward her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, burying his face in her hair.

She froze, waiting to see what he would do, but then his breathing evened out. It wasn't long until she followed him.

The next time she woke, there was early morning sun streaming in the windows. She panicked for a moment, afraid they'd overslept and missed the first appointment, but the clock read quarter after eight and they didn't have anywhere to be until nine. Draco was still tucked behind her, though his grip was loose.

But they didn't have all the time in the world, so even though it was still cold, Hermione tried to slip out of bed so she could get in the shower. She'd managed to get one leg out from under the sheets before his arm went rigid, holding her solidly in place. Then he shifted, trying to sink deeper into her hair and curling his body around hers.

"Draco. We need to get up."

"Five more minutes."

She rolled her eyes to the wall with a smile. When two had passed, she spoke again. "We don't have much time. We've got to get ready, eat breakfast, and be there in… forty-one minutes."

"Plenty of time." His voice was muffled through her hair, but she could feel the heat of his breath on her neck.

"Not really, I'm afraid, because—"

Before she knew what had happened, he pushed himself up and gently pushed her onto her back, then dipped his head to kiss her deeply. It was a surprise, but a very good and welcome one, and she kissed him back, sighing before she remembered with a jolt how she'd treated him the night before.

She stopped abruptly. "Wait."

He merely continued kissing down her neck, which was very distracting.

"About last night."

"No need to explain." He was pulling at the neck of her pajama shirt, trying to expose more skin.

Her eyes fluttered closed as his hands began to explore, but then she sucked in a breath and put her hand on his chest. "I'm sorry."

For the first time that morning, he looked at her, and her breath caught in her throat. He was so handsome, his fringe hanging over his right eye, a sleep line on his cheek, his eyes very awake and burning as he waited patiently for her to continue. "There's no need to apologize, either."

She couldn't fully explain without giving everything away, but she did think she owed him _some_ explanation. But the way he was looking at her told her she had about five seconds to speak before he removed her ability to do so. "There is. I can't really say why this is so important to me, please just trust me that it is." She hoped he'd take her 'can't' to mean she couldn't put it into words.

"I trust you. Completely." A flicker of a frown passed over his face. "I wasn't upset. I just want to be here for you. Whatever you need."

His words melted her, and Hermione bit her lip, eyes flicking to the clock and back to him. "What I _need_ is for us to get ready for the day. I don't want to be late."

She could tell he was torn—of course he wanted to continue kissing, which would most likely lead to much more, but he'd just said he would do whatever she needed. With a long blink, he sighed and sat up, hands on his thighs.

Hermione smirked and got out of bed, grabbing a change of clothes and her shower things. When she turned back to him, he was still sitting in the same position; she wondered if he was trying to cool his blood. She went to the door of the loo, pausing as though she'd just thought of something.

"You know, since we're pressed for time, I think it might be expedient for you to join me."

Draco's head whipped around, the shocked expression on his face quickly morphing into one of hunger. He leaped off the bed and, in two strides, followed her through the door.

**ooo**

At precisely two minutes before nine, Hermione and Draco arrived at the first property on their list for the day. As soon as she took one look, she felt a buzz of excitement surge through her. She glanced at Draco, eager to see his reaction, but he appeared just as excited for this one as he had for most of the others—which was to say, barely at all.

No matter.

The exterior was an immediate draw. The facade was old stone, and it was tucked at the end of a small parking lot. The unit was near a park, and there was a stone wall along the wide end of the lot. It felt private, tucked away just off the main road through the area. There was a metal stair rail heading up the outside of the building, but they were quickly told by the agent who met them in the parking lot that it went to a different residence.

The entrance was at the bottom of the stairs in the stone wall.

As they walked through each room, Hermione's sense of excitement grew. She could _see_ herself living there, could picture her and Draco sitting on the sofa under the bank of windows, drinking tea by the fireplace. She could easily imagine cooking dinner for the two of them under the stone archway, the kitchen tucked at the bottom of a spiral staircase.

The bedroom took up the entire top floor, and there was another bank of windows on one wall. She could see them waking up there, enjoying the view while they got ready for the day, talking while lying in bed at night, falling asleep in his arms…

"Hermione?"

"Hm?"

"Did you have any questions?" The agent was speaking to her, a hesitant look on her face.

"No." Hermione beamed. "I'll take it."

Draco's eyebrows shot up. "You'll what?"

She looked at him. "This is the one. Remember? I told you I would know it when I found it."

The agent seemed unsure. "We've only been here about seven minutes. Did you want to see—"

"No, thank you. I appreciate your time. But I'm ready to sign whatever I need to sign."

Draco stepped close when the agent turned away to rifle through her papers. "Are you sure? Did you want to talk about it?"

"Do you like it?"

He blinked and glanced around the living area. "I mean, I like it just fine."

"But you don't hate it."

"No." He shook his head with a curious quirk of his lips. "I don't hate it. I rather like it. But then, all that matters to me is you. Anywhere you are, that's home to me. As long as you're happy with it, I'll be happy."

She nodded once, feeling a rush of affection for him at his words. "I love it. So since you said you don't hate it, I'm taking this one."

He chuckled. "Looks like we get to enjoy the town today, after all."

An hour later, Hermione had finished all the paperwork and paid her deposit. She and Draco walked out hand in hand, and she felt lighter than she had in a very long time. She wouldn't live in this flat for very long, in the grand scheme of things, but it would be important to her for the rest of her life.

* * *

**Tuesday,** **19 DECEMBER**

"I can't believe you've never done this before."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You can't believe it? Really?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Oh, well, I suppose I thought your parents would have taken you as a small child out to the woods and let you pick a tree? No?"

He laughed. "No, Hermione. My parents sent an elf into the woods to find the grandest tree possible and then observed as the other elves decorated it. I remember being scolded if I so much as touched the thing, since most of the ornaments were made of crystal."

"That's too bad." She linked arms with him, walking in stride and enjoying all of the padding and layers between them. There was something wonderful about being held by someone wearing four layers of wool. "We're going to do this the right way, then. It's my last Christmas in my flat, and I want a tree."

"Then you shall certainly have it." He leaned over and kissed her temple.

They arrived at the tree farm and Hermione broke into a grin. "I love this place! Isn't it beautiful?"

"It is." Draco scanned the wide fields of trees. "What do we do now?"

"We grab a saw, of course!" Hand in hand, they walked to the small building by the entrance.

A woman came out to greet them. "Hullo there, thank you for coming out! Have you been here before?"

"I've been here, but my boyfriend hasn't."

The woman smiled warmly. "Well, welcome. Please take a saw and make sure someone's holding the trunk before you start cutting. We've got four varieties: Blue Spruce, Norway Spruce, Nordmann Fir, and Scotch Pine. The price is five pounds per foot, and we've got hot chocolate inside when you're ready."

"Thank you!" Hermione pointed to a stash of saws. "I want you to pick one out!"

He gave her a skeptical look. "Are we seriously going to use a saw to cut down a tree ?"

"Yes!" She squealed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "It's delightful. I promise."

Draco sighed and took the closest saw. "Lead the way."

Hermione began walking around, examining all of the trees. She liked the look of Nordman Fir best, but she wanted to let Draco pick it out. "See anything you like?"

He was mostly silent, his eyes darting from tree to tree. "How big do you want it?"

"Oh, I don't know. It doesn't have to be large. I'd say no more than six feet?"

"Alright. What about this one?" He led her to a Blue Spruce, a very serious expression on his face as he examined the tree.

Hermione walked all the way around it and found a large hole on one side. She pointed to it. "Let's see if we can find one without a gap."

Draco's eyes widened when he saw what she meant. "I see. Yes, we'll have to be very discerning."

It took them over forty minutes to find the perfect tree, but it was by far the most fun she'd ever had picking a tree. Draco ended up really getting into the idea, becoming a Christmas tree critic of the highest order and rejecting her suggestions left and right. Once he got the gist of what they were looking for, nothing would do until they'd found the perfect specimen.

She'd started to give up hope that it was at that farm, but then she heard him call to her from a few rows over. When she found him, he was grinning broadly, his eyes sparkling with delight.

"I've found it." He took her hand and led her to a Norway Spruce, a kind of reverence in his approach. "What do you think?"

The tree was a little over six feet tall, and when she walked around it, she could find no flaws. "It's beautiful! This is my favorite, by far."

He stuck his hand into the tree and took hold of the trunk. "It's completely straight. We won't have any trouble getting it to stand up correctly, so long as we cut it straight."

"Wonderful! Do you want to cut it down, or do you want me to?"

The look he gave her was one of exaggerated incredulity. "I want to, of course! I found it, after all."

She grinned at him. "I'll hold it steady, then."

In less than five minutes, the tree was cut, and together they hefted it back up to the front of the tree farm. Draco surprised her by having the correct Muggle payment, and they both enjoyed a cup of hot chocolate while the other employees put the tree on the shaker device to get the loose needles out, then secured it to the rental car.

It had occurred to Hermione that they couldn't very well just show up in the middle of the country at the tree farm, nor could they very easily get the thing home without raising some suspicion. She'd arranged to rent a car in the nearest town, and they planned to drive the tree to the middle of nowhere, Apparate with it back to her flat, then leave it there and go back to repair any scratches from the tree before they returned the car.

Once all of that was done, it was nearing tea time. Hermione put on the kettle and they set to work putting the tree into its base. Magic made this task much easier than Hermione remembered from her childhood. Perhaps because of the difficulty they'd had getting it to stay in the right position, her father had finally bought a fake tree after struggling for years with a live one. She also remembered the trees tipping occasionally and ornaments breaking. The one thing Hermione loved most about live trees, however, was the smell. She'd always missed it when she'd come home from Hogwarts for the holidays and there was no scent of evergreen to greet her.

"I'm guessing you don't decorate it with spells." Draco sank onto the sofa beside her, resting his arm along the back. "What do you have to put up?"

"Not much, I'm afraid." Hermione pointed to a small box in the corner of the room. "But maybe I'll get a few things to add to my collection. I don't want a bunch of random ornaments just to have things to put on the tree. I want everything to be meaningful."

Draco Summoned the box and set it on her lap. "I'd like to see."

She took the top off the box and smiled. Then one by one, she showed him each ornament and explained its significance. There were only a dozen or so to look at, but he seemed interested in every last detail about each one.

At the bottom of the box was a separate, smaller container, and as she pulled it out, happy tears welled in her eyes. "My parents have this tradition of giving me an ornament every year. They chose to give me snowflakes each year, so I have this little collection of all of the snowflakes they ever gave me." She pulled out a sparkly red one. "This is from last year. It's hideous, don't you think?"

He laughed, surprised at her candor. "It's… not my favorite. Are there any green ones in there, by chance?"

"Speaking of my parents, they've mentioned having us over for dinner some time." The idea always made her slightly nervous, not because she was afraid that Draco would offend them but because she'd never taken a man home to meet her parents. They'd already known Ron when she'd dated him, and there hadn't been anyone serious enough since.

But Draco was most definitely serious enough.

"Yeah?" He peered at her, his expression curiously neutral. "For Christmas, you mean?"

"No." She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "They're having a gathering sometime the week after the new year. It's not a big thing. We could just show up and stay for an hour or so. They can meet you without a lot of pressure, since there will be a lot of other people they'll want to talk to."

"I'll go with you." He didn't even hesitate. "My Mother asked me to extend an invitation to you to join us for brunch on Christmas Day. I told her I didn't know what your plans were."

She smiled brightly. "Brunch with your mother sounds wonderful. After that, will you come with me to The Burrow?"

"The Burrow?" Draco let out an exaggerated sigh. "I knew I wouldn't be able to escape its pull. And by pull, I mean I want nothing more than to be by your side the whole day. So, yes. We'll go to The Burrow after brunch."

Hermione's heart swelled, relishing the joy of having someone to make Christmas plans with and knowing deep in her heart that she would likely be making plans with him for years to come. She cleared her throat and stood to retrieve the lights from the Christmas box. "Ready to help with these?"

He gave the lights a curious look, then squinted at them. "What do they do?"

"They light up when you plug them in. But I'll do that, don't worry." She pushed the plug into the outlet and broke into a smile when the lights flickered on. It was a strand of colored lights, and she immediately began stringing them onto the tree.

"I thought electricity and magic didn't go well together." He stood then and watched her work.

"They typically don't. There are a few things that don't seem to be affected. These lights, for example, work fine. But bigger things, like televisions, computers, power tools, they don't like being near magic. They draw a lot more current and that makes the magic go funny. Plus, I don't have too many electronic things around. Want to help?"

"Oh, sure. Yeah."

"Wait! I've forgotten something!" Hermione left the lights in his hands and went to the Wireless. After trying a few stations, she found one playing Christmas music. "That's absolutely essential for decorating a tree!"

After the lights, they started on the ornaments, and within half an hour, the tree was finished. Hermione made some hot chocolate, then brought it out to drink together on the sofa. She put out all the lights except for the tree and prodded the fire on her way, then handed him a mug.

He looked at it, then grinned at her. "Thank you for remembering my marshmallows."

"Like I could forget. You put three bags of them in the cabinet with the cocoa."

Draco laughed. "Well, I like my marshmallows."

She shook her head and sipped from her mug. "I'd love to join you and Narcissa for brunch on Christmas. I'll probably go to my parents' house first thing, have coffee and a pastry with them, and exchange gifts. Then I'll come to the Manor."

"I have to assume The Burrow is in the plans, as well?"

"Yes. Oh—wait! Yes!" She turned so that she could look at him. "Have you decided when you're going to give Harry that painting yet?"

His eyes lit up. "The office exchange is next week. Wednesday."

"Excellent. I'll be sure to get Ginny out of the house near the end of the work day."

"It's going to take some careful coordination between us."

"I'm not worried." Hermione smiled. "I think we make a good team."

Draco considered her for a moment, then motioned toward the tree. "You're right. We managed to put up a tree together. There's no telling what we'll do next." He kissed her lightly, smiling as he did so.

She enjoyed the taste of the chocolate on his lips and kissed him again. It escalated quickly, and she realized after a few minutes that she'd need to put her mug down; he, too, was still holding his. "Draco."

"Hmm." He was kissing along her jaw, one hand awkwardly sticking out to the side.

"The hot chocolate."

"Hmm?" With a quick flick of his eyes, he saw what she meant and gave a low chuckle. "Right. That could get messy." He stood and took her mug from her, setting them down on a side table.

Meanwhile, she'd situated herself more comfortably on the sofa, ready for whatever would happen next.

Though, she had a pretty good feeling about what that would be.

* * *

**Friday, 22 DECEMBER**

"Hermione!"

She beamed at Harry, who was leaning against his desk with a mug in his hand talking to a few colleagues. He pushed away when he saw her, his best Harry grin on his face.

"Hi, Harry!" They hugged briefly. Everyone Harry had been talking to nodded to her and dispersed.

"Malfoy is in a meeting." He motioned to Draco's empty chair.

"That's okay. I actually came to have lunch with you."

"Brilliant! Nobody's getting any work done here, anyway." He put his jacket on and they started for the cafeteria.

Hermione noted the small stack of gifts under the miniature tree that had been set up on a table in the corner. She could just make out the dark green paper Draco had used to wrap the frame containing the print of "The Nose."

As they were settled at their usual table, Harry finished his story about a case he and Draco were working on.

"It sounds truly fascinating." Hermione took a bite of beans.

"So… what really brings you by?" Harry gave her a shrewd look.

Hermione chuckled. "You mean I can't just stop by to have lunch with you like we always used to?"

Harry shrugged. "Of course you can. But I'm certain that's not the only reason you're here."

"You're right, of course. I have some news."

Harry's eyes went wide and he quickly dropped his gaze to her hand. "You're not... I don't see a ring."

Hermione gasped. "Harry! Goodness! Did you honestly expect _that?_ "

"I don't know. I suppose it wouldn't surprise me, at this point." He shrugged and returned his attention to his meal. "Nothing else can quite live up to that, so go ahead and tell me."

"Remember that conversation we had at The Burrow? About what I should do with my life?"

"I do, yeah. Have you thought of something?" He continued chewing his roast.

"I have. I'm going to study wizarding law so that I can fight for what I believe is right." As with Draco, that wasn't the difficult part. And, of course, Harry's reaction wouldn't be the same as Draco's, but he would still likely be affected by her news. "And I'm moving to Manchester for a law program that lasts eighteen months."

Harry's chewing slowed to a stop as he stared at her, processing her words. Then he swallowed. "Wait. You're what?"

"I've found a flat in Manchester, where I've also found a wizarding law school. They had an opening for the session beginning in January, and I decided to take it—or, we decided I should take it. Draco and I."

Harry went slightly pale. "Malfoy's not moving, too, is he?"

"No. Though I fail to see what problem it would cause if he did; it's not like you live in London. He can Apparate from Manchester just as well as from Wiltshire." Even if Draco didn't technically move to Manchester, she had every reason to believe he would still spend a lot of time with her.

"That's true." Harry resumed eating, a slight frown on his face. "He's not going to quit the DMLE, is he? I mean, he hasn't mentioned it or said anything like it, has he?"

Hermione blinked, surprised at the question. "He hasn't said anything like that to me. Why?"

"I really, really like working with him. I know I've joked about it, but he's the best partner I could ask for. Nearly everyone in the department wishes he was their partner. We work so well together, and I like that we're friends outside of work, and I'm really glad that you're dating him now. Only… I'm afraid that, once you have kids, he'll quit to stay home while you charge ahead with changing the world." The last bit came out in a rush, and his cheeks went a bit pink.

"Harry, you're getting quite ahead of things. We've only been dating for two months. We've certainly not discussed which of us would work in the event that we have children!" She laughed lightly at his sheepish expression. "Please don't worry. Draco adores working with you, too. He'd never admit that, except under pain of death, but I can tell."

Harry sighed. "You will, though."

"I will what?"

"Marry him. I knew it would happen with Ron, too, the way he talked about Pansy. I know both of you pretty well by now. I know it's only been two months, but at the same time, most of us have been silently begging the two of you to stop being so bloody oblivious for most of the year."

Hermione hummed. "I must admit, I'm happier than I ever dreamed possible. Who knows what the future holds?"

Harry grinned and the conversation turned to other things. As they were returning their dishes, Hermione lightly grabbed his arm. "Oh, Harry. I'm going to run by and see Ginny after this. Anything you want me to tell her or give her?"

He thought for a moment. "No, can't think of anything."

"Good. Have a good day!" She started to walk away, heading for the atrium while he turned in the direction of the lifts.

"Oh, wait!"

Hermione spun around. "Yes?"

"Tell her I will probably be home a bit early. We've only got a little departmental Christmas thing this afternoon, then a meeting at two. I think Draco wanted to skive off then, so I'll probably do the same."

Her heart jumped. "I will. Goodbye, Harry!" She smiled and waved, but then turned and had to force herself not to panic. If Harry left work early, that would mess up their plan. Hermione slid into the crowd milling about, out of sight of the lifts, then positioned herself so that she could watch Harry disappear into one.

Once the doors slid closed, she rushed to the front desk, where a few stoic people sat, most of them busy helping someone. A lone witch was currently unoccupied, and Hermione went to her.

The woman looked up with a bored smile. "May I help you?"

Hermione put on her brightest smile. "Yes, I'd like to send a memo to someone who works here."

"Do you also work here?" The woman tapped a stack of scraps of parchment on the table with her quill.

"Um, no, I don't." She pulled out her own quill and began to scratch out a message to Draco. Her biggest concern was that Harry might recognize her handwriting on the outside and ask Draco about it. Though, honestly, he was a Slytherin. He was well versed in this sort of thing. She was forgetting that she wouldn't have to spell it all out as she would have for some of her other friends—Ron, especially, came to mind.

Hermione folded the note in half and handed it to the woman, who Charmed it into the usual airplane shape. Just before she tapped it, however, she frowned. "You forgot to say where it's going."

"Oh, dear. I've put my quill away already. Would you be a dear and write it for me? It's to Draco Malfoy in the DMLE."

The woman heaved an impatient sigh, as though Hermione's request were extremely burdensome, but did as she'd asked. With a tap of her wand, the memo flew off in the direction of the lifts. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, thank you so much." Hermione gave her one last smile, then returned to the atrium, where she then Apparated to Ginny's house.

Her friend answered the door while bouncing the baby. She looked a bit harried, and she put her finger to her lips as she let Hermione in. "James is napping. He's been down almost an hour."

Hermione pursed her lips briefly. A nap wasn't ideal, but then, she had about an hour before she really needed to be sure that Ginny was out of the house. They went into the kitchen, and Ginny offered to make some tea.

"That sounds lovely." All the while, as she worked to prepare the tea and set out a tray of assorted biscuits, she bounced Eloise, who was bundled up in a carrier on Ginny's front.

"Is she asleep?" Hermione asked, trying to catch a glimpse of the baby.

"She's nursing. I absolutely love this thing because I can do almost anything while she eats and sleeps." Ginny pulled out the tea, sugar, and cream, then handed Hermione a teacup. "Anything except sit down. Or sleep. Or get any kind of real rest. But other than that, it's delightful."

Hermione laughed and stirred some honey into her tea. She decided that since she had some time before she needed to act, she'd tell Ginny what she'd just finished telling Harry. Ginny's reaction wasn't the last bit surprising.

"He'll move in with you, right?" It wasn't so much a question as a request for affirmation of a fact.

"Well, we haven't discussed that." Hermione had thoughts of her own on the subject, but she wouldn't be sharing them with Ginny before she talked to Draco.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "He's been living at the Manor since, what, summer?"

"September." Hermione took a bite of a chocolate biscuit. It was one of Molly's signature recipes, and Ginny, despite not feeling at home in the kitchen, had managed to absolutely master it. "These are so good, Gin. May I take one to Draco?"

She smirked. "Of course. Take as many as you want. But let's get back to the subject at hand, yeah? He's been living at the Manor. Now you two are together, it makes sense that he'd move with you."

"If he were looking to move, maybe. But he hasn't said anything like that."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Well, he can't very well invite himself to live with you, can he? He's far too much of a gentleman for that. Even though I know it's what he's thinking."

"He did join me in the search. Don't you think it's a little soon to be moving in together?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Not with you two and the absurd dance you've been doing around each other all year. I mean, I sort of assumed that, once he spent the night, he'd never leave." She tutted. "Looking back over this year, it's so obvious how you two felt about each other."

Hermione chuckled. "Yeah, he and I have talked about that."

"So, um, you have, then, right?"

"Have what?" Hermione took a sip of her tea.

"He's stayed the night by now, yeah?"

Hermione's eyes went wide and she blushed. "Oh! Um, yes. He has."

Ginny grinned. "Excellent. Then I see no reason why he couldn't move to Manchester with you. It's not like it really matters where he lives, you know."

"I know that. And... I can see that as a possibility. Someday."

"Well I want to hear all about him sleeping over." Ginny waggled her eyebrows. "With lots and lots and _lots_ of details. Meaning, I want nothing left out."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Since when have I ever shared lots of details?"

"That's a good point. Fine then, you can keep all that to yourself. I mean, he _was_ voted Witch Weekly's sexiest wizard three years in a row, so I'm sure there's nothing interesting to report." Ginny's expression was unrepentant.

"It's wonderful. And that's all that I'm going to say." It wasn't that she didn't want to talk about how very, _very_ good things were with Draco, but she simply didn't feel the need to go on and on about it.

Ginny opened her mouth to protest but then they heard the sound of little feet padding down the hall. James walked into the kitchen yawning, his hair as unruly as Harry's. He looked at Hermione, but as soon as he saw his mother, he went to her and buried his face in her side. Ginny ruffled his hair and gave Hermione a look that clearly said the conversation would not be forgotten.

"Want a snack?" James nodded and Ginny started pulling something out for him.

Hermione started to get a bit antsy; Draco would be Apparating into the house in less than twenty minutes. "I've got an idea! Why don't we walk down to that playground at the end of the street? James can play and we can continue talking."

James' eyes lit up. "Can we, Mummy?"

Ginny gave Hermione a searching look. "Will we be talking _details_? You know it's covered in snow, right?"

"Yes, of course, but we're magical, aren't we? It'll be easy enough to stay warm. And yes, Ginny. _Details_." This was Hermione's concession, the one thing she knew she could use to get Ginny out of the house. She immediately started sifting through what she thought she could reasonably tell Ginny that would satisfy her curiosity. She also helped her friend get everything ready for the walk down the street. It took seventeen minutes to get out the door, a fact that astonished Hermione; children made everything infinitely more complicated.

But soon they had the diaper bags ready, snacks packed, and drinks prepared. Ginny opened up the stroller and put James in it, wrapped in a blanket. Then she cast Warming Charms over everybody.

Hermione pushed the stroller while Ginny wrapped her warmest cloak around herself and Eloise. Then they went out, Hermione's heart pounding at how close she had cut it. Draco would be arriving any minute!

As they walked casually down the sidewalk, James begged to get down, so Ginny let him. He went running ahead and started picking up handfuls of snow, then watching the wind blow it about as he slowly let it sift through his fingers. Hermione smiled.

Once they reached the playground, Ginny let James run free. It was sunny, at least, so it didn't feel as cold as it probably was. So long as they stayed in the direct sun, it wouldn't be too bad.

"Alright, now. Spill." Ginny started bouncing again to keep Eloise happy.

Hermione took a deep breath and began. After about ten minutes, during which Ginny pressed for more and more details, Hermione felt the large coin she'd tucked into her glove grow warm. She instantly relaxed; it was the sign that Draco had completed the mission and was back at the office. It had been her idea to communicate using the coins so she would know when his part was finished.

Once she knew the coast was clear, Hermione put a quick end to the conversation about Draco, much to Ginny's disappointment.

"That's all you're telling me?" She frowned severely. "I mean, it was more than nothing, I suppose I ought to be grateful, but you were just getting to the really good parts!"

"Ginny! I'm not going to walk you through every little moment!"

Ginny arched an eyebrow, then sighed deeply. "All right. Keep your sexy secrets."

Hermione laughed. "Thank you. Oh, Harry asked me to let you know that he'd be home on time tonight, not early like he'd hoped."

"You saw Harry?"

"We had lunch. I wanted to tell him the same thing I told you. About Manchester." She watched James flop down onto the powdery snow and start waving his arms and legs. "He was mostly concerned that Draco wouldn't stay with the DMLE."

Ginny snorted. "I swear, Harry adores him. And now that you're dating him? The man can do no wrong."

"I'm a bit fond of him, as well. But enough of that. Let's talk about something else. I want to hear how your family is doing with Ron's upcoming wedding."

That subject took up the better part of an hour, then Hermione walked Ginny back home and said goodbye on the front step. She wished she could somehow see her friends' reactions to what Draco had done, but she'd have to be content with missing it.

**ooo**

As soon as the fireplace roared to life, Hermione put down the book she'd been pretending to read and leapt up. Draco emerged seconds later, brushing soot off his traveling cloak. He grinned when he saw her. "I take it everything went fine on your end?"

"Yes, but it was very close." She kissed him briefly, then took his hand and led him to the sofa. "How was work? I want to hear all about the gift exchange."

Draco chuckled. "Let me grab a drink first, yeah? I'll be right back. Want one?"

"Yes, please and thank you." Minutes later, he returned with a bottle of beer for himself and a glass of wine for her. She sniffed the contents of her glass. "Ooh, this is one of the good bottles."

"It was a good day." He held his bottle out toward her, then drank. "I really wish you could have seen his face when he opened the gift. First, it was brilliant to wrap it in a large box so that he'd have no idea what it was." She'd suggested putting it in a garment gift box to throw Harry off. "I think for a second he thought I'd given him a scarf? I don't know. But the frame was wrapped inside the larger box, and he gave me a very strange look as he opened it. Then his expression froze, the little half-smile he'd been sporting quickly turning to something of a grimace. It was fantastic. Then his eyes flicked over to mine—just his eyes, not a single other muscle moved—and he held up the framed print. He asked me what it was, and I told him, with a straight face, that I'd bought him this really expensive piece of art from your show. I played it up really big, as though it had been some masterpiece. By the end, he was red-faced and thanking me while shoving the frame into a corner to hide it. It was absolute perfection."

"I wonder how long it will take them to notice their _real_ Christmas gift." Hermione tried to picture her friends discovering it and snickered.

"What do you think they'll do? Harry left a little before me. He should be home by now." He grinned wide, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Do you think they'll send a Howler?"

Hermione shrugged and they passed a few minutes in speculation. She was about to suggest they think about dinner when there was a knock at the door. They looked at each other, eyes widening. She motioned for him to come close, then spoke softly. "What should we do? How do you want to play this?"

He glanced quickly around the room, then pointed down the hall. "I'm not here."

Another knock sounded as he darted quietly out of the room. Hermione schooled her features and answered the door.

As expected, Harry and Ginny were there, without James. _Huh_. That was awfully fast if they'd managed to find someone to watch him. Ginny's expression was one of amusement; Harry just looked tired.

"Where is he?" Harry dragged a hand through his hair.

"Um, where is who?"

Ginny barked a laugh.

"Don't play stupid, Hermione. Where's Malfoy?"

"Oh, I'm not exactly sure, honestly. Would you like to come in? You look like you had an awful day, Harry." She opened the door and Harry shuffled in. Ginny pointed an accusing finger at her as she passed, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

Harry flopped onto the sofa. "Well? What did he do? How do I get it off?"

Hermione blinked. "Get what off? Did something happen at work?" She shook her head with a slight tut. "Honestly, I hope they're not working you too much before Christmas! Ginny, can I get you anything? Harry?"

Harry merely waved while Ginny followed her into the kitchen. Once they were away from Harry, Ginny spoke quietly. "Listen. I grew up with Fred and George. I respect a good prank. I laughed about it long and hard while Harry tried to pry that thing off the wall. But now we need Malfoy to unstick it. I refuse to sleep with my husband with a six-foot square painting of an old man's nose on the wall over our bed."

"A _what_?" She gaped at Ginny. "An old man's _nose_?"

Ginny crossed her arms. "Very funny, Hermione. You forget I was right beside you for most of your shenanigans in school. I know when you're lying, even though most people would have no clue."

Hermione huffed as though offended and brushed past Ginny with Harry's drink. She handed it to him, then sat in a chair and picked up her wine glass. With a terrified jolt, she remembered Draco's bottle, but a quick glance around the room didn't reveal it. He must have taken it with him to her room.

"Hermione, tell me where Malfoy is so I can get that bloody thing off my wall."

"Will you just start from the beginning, Harry? Ginny said something about a painting of a nose?"

He gave her a withering look. "You know very well. He gave me a small print of the thing today in our Christmas gift exchange at work. He said he'd bought it at _your_ art show. It's hideous, even in miniature. When I got home and went to change, I saw a giant version of it hanging over my bed. My _bed_ , Hermione. A four-foot nose, complete with hair and deep, old man pores. It's hideous."

Ginny made a gagging noise. "Why would anyone waste perfectly good paint on _that_?"

"I don't know quite how he did it—"

"I do." Ginny pointed at Hermione. "She was over this afternoon. Got me out of the house with the promise of tantalizing details of her and Malfoy in bed—which, by the way, Hermione, weren't satisfactory."

Harry grimaced. "I do not want to know."

Ginny continued. "She knows our wards, so she told him how to get past them, he Apparated in, put up the monstrosity, and left, neat as you please. Deny it, Hermione."

She bit her bottom lip, teetering with indecision. Then she shrugged. "Fine, you're right."

"Good." Harry let out a relieved breath. "Now. We just need him to come get it down."

Movement caught Hermione's eye, and she looked up to see Draco standing in the doorway. "No can do, Potter. That's a first-class Sticking Charm. It's an old family secret, passed down on my mother's side. You remember old Walburga, I believe?"

Harry went pale. "Malfoy. No, you… you wouldn't do that."

Ginny was watching Draco shrewdly, then she shook her head. "No. He'd never risk permanently alienating you because Hermione would have a hard time forgiving that."

Draco bowed his head toward Ginny. "Too right, Mrs. Potter. It's a long-term Charm, but it won't last forever. I reckon it'll be ready to come down in… oh, about a year." He raised his bottle and smirked. "Happy Christmas, Harry."

At first, Hermione thought Harry might lunge for Draco's neck, but after a tense moment, he just started laughing. "Well done. I suppose this is your way of getting back at me for last year."

Draco affected an astonished expression, pressing his fingers to his chest. "Me? Seek revenge? Do you think me so petty that I would want to retaliate just because you gave me that motion-activated tchotchke that shouted obscenities at everyone who approached my desk for four months until the charm wore off for Christmas last year? Why on earth would I want to pay you back for that?"

Harry laughed harder. "Well, fine, but just you wait, Malfoy. It's officially on."

Hermione looked between her friend and her boyfriend in amazement. She'd never really gotten to see Draco and Harry interact beyond their work at the Ministry. In group settings, Draco was always reserved, but she knew Harry was excessively fond of his partner, and maybe this was a little glimpse into why.

Draco took another swallow, then stepped away from the doorway. "I look forward to your pathetic attempt at revenge. Good luck."

"I know you don't think much of my skills at being sneaky, but need I remind you I've got George Weasley on my side?" Harry crossed his arms over his chest.

Draco shrugged. "I've got Hermione. It was her idea, anyway."

Harry's jaw dropped and he spun to look at her, as did Ginny.

"Your idea?" Ginny repeated with a squeak. "Oh, well, if this is going beyond just Harry and Malfoy, then I'm all in. I didn't grow up with six brothers without learning a few things."

Hermione walked to Draco's side and put her arm around his waist. "Even so, you two are in way over your heads, I'm afraid."

Draco pulled her closer and kissed her temple. "You're so incredibly sexy when you talk Slytherin."

"And that's our cue to leave." Ginny grinned at Hermione, then grabbed Harry's hand.

"No, wait!" Hermione slipped out of Draco's hold slightly, holding her hands up for her friends to stop. With a brief glance at Draco, she willed him to be okay with what she was about to do. "Why don't you stay for dinner? I… didn't have a plan for tonight, Draco and I usually just figure it out, but we could order pizza?"

Harry and Ginny exchanged a look, then Ginny spoke. "We'd love to! Let me just Floo-call Mum and let her know. We dropped James there with hardly two words of instruction, so I really ought to let her know what's going on."

"Of course!" Hermione motioned toward the fireplace. "We'll just… order takeaway. I've got a stash of menus somewhere. The ones here in Diagon accept orders by owl."

Harry went with Ginny to talk to Molly, and Draco followed Hermione into the kitchen. She bit her lip. "I hope you don't mind."

"I don't mind a bit." He slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her. "I'm thrilled."

"Really? Why?"

He shrugged, his expression thoughtful. "It's very... normal. Inviting friends for dinner is something couples do. And I like that. I want us to be normal."

She laughed lightly, pressing her hand to his cheek. "Well, I'm not sure we're ever going to be _normal_." Then she drew him into another kiss, this one a good deal more heated than the last. His hands had just started exploring when Harry walked into the room and started opening and then slamming cabinet doors and drawers, making more noise than was strictly necessary.

"If you're going to do that all night, we're leaving." He then proceeded to pull plates and cups out of the cabinets.

Draco let her go, his eyes telling her it was the last thing he wanted to do. But then he clapped Harry on the back and helped him carry everything to the table.

* * *

**Monday, 25 DECEMBER**

Christmas Day dawned bright and cold.

Hermione lounged in bed for about half an hour, reading a book she'd started the day before. When she absolutely had to get up in order to get ready to go to her parents' house, she did so grudgingly, wishing she could just stay in bed all day.

But that was not to be.

After spending an hour with her parents, she returned to her flat to change for brunch at the Manor. Even though Draco had insisted it would be casual, Hermione knew Narcissa better than that. She'd shopped especially for this very casual brunch, choosing a cream-colored dress that hugged her nicely while remaining perfectly appropriate for a Christmas meal with her boyfriend's mother.

**ooo**

Christmas dinner at The Burrow passed delightfully, and everyone was in excellent spirits. There was a great deal of excitement in the air because not only was it Christmas, but Ron's wedding was less than a week away. Draco seemed more comfortable with everyone, even going so far as to attempt a Quidditch game after dinner. It was really too blustery for a game, but he and some others gave it a good try. Hermione sat in a window seat with a book and tried to spot him through the snow-thick air.

She met him on the back step with a cup of hot chocolate and a kiss while the snow swirled around them.

They stayed later than she'd planned because Draco was so caught up in a conversation with Harry, Ron, and George. She found herself sitting quietly, watching and waiting and yawning until he finally noticed. Their eyes met, his warm and bright to match his smile and demeanor, and he nodded almost imperceptibly.

In less than five minutes, they were bundled in all of their things, laden with the gifts they'd received, and tossing Floo powder into the roaring flames. Draco guided her into the fireplace and they waved one last time before being whisked away.

As soon as they stepped through into her flat, Hermione let out a long, relieved breath. The silence around her was so complete, it felt like being plunged underwater. She closed her eyes and smiled.

Draco chuckled and took her hand in his. "Happy Christmas, Hermione."

"The same to you, Draco."

He kissed her lightly, in no hurry it seemed to do anything more than that. After a few minutes, he ended the kiss and led her by the hand to the sofa. "Have a seat. Would you like a glass of wine? Or hot chocolate?"

Hermione hummed as she thought. "Hot chocolate. And a fire." She started to get up and tend to it, but Draco motioned for her to remain seated. He lit the fire with a quick flick of his wrist and disappeared into the kitchen. She sat, quite content, staring at the fire and enjoying the twinkling lights on the tree.

After a few minutes, he returned with two steaming mugs. Hermione smiled as she accepted hers, then glanced at his to see it nearly overflowing with marshmallows. "I don't know, Draco. I think you could have fit a few more in there."

He grinned at her, one of her favorite kinds that made her stomach swoop. But he didn't say anything, only sat beside her, slinging one arm around her shoulder. Hermione leaned into him, tucking her legs up beside her.

They sat on her sofa just like they had the night they'd put up the tree, the only light coming from it and the fire. She was exhausted from the very full day, and she suspected he was, too, if his staring unseeingly into the flickering flames was any indication.

"Draco?"

He blinked a few times, then looked over at her. "Yes?"

"I have something for you." She set her mug on the coffee table and swung her legs over the side of the sofa.

"I thought I told you not to get me anything."

"Technically, I didn't spend a Knut on you." She bit her lip.

He arched an eyebrow. "Oh? Now I'm curious."

Hermione went to the tree and pulled off an ornament in the shape of a present. "I know the next eighteen months are going to be a challenge for us. We've not been together very long, and it's a huge change. I thought this might make things easier for us." She held out the small package to him.

"Something that will make the time easier?" He took it and shook it, amusement playing on his features at the slight thumping noise. "I'm intrigued."

She rolled her eyes. "Just open it."

Draco did, prying open the hinge and then dumping the contents into his palm. For a moment, he only stared, then looked up at her. "What's this?"

"What do you mean, 'what's this?' What does it look like?"

He picked the object up with his other hand, holding it between two fingers. "It looks a bit like… like a key?"

"Well spotted. It's a key to my new flat in Manchester. I figured, this way, you know you're free to come whenever you want. No need to wor—"

Draco practically leapt across the sofa to kiss her, his hands threading in her hair. It wasn't long before she was gasping, and he expertly took advantage of this to deepen the kiss. Again, though, he pulled back before things got really heated, finally pressing his forehead to hers.

"You do realize that I'll never leave."

She let out a breath. "That's okay. You can have a drawer."

"Just one?" He smirked, his eyes shining.

"I'll give you space in the closet. And the bathroom."

Draco chuckled, then leveled her with a very serious look. "I'm not the least bit joking. If you're giving me a key to your flat, then I'm going to want to be there with you all the time."

"That's kind of the idea, you know." She took a small breath. "This way, you know, we can have all those conversations you talked about the other day. I can share every little detail you never wanted to know about my teachers and fellow students, my coursework, the terrible books I have to read, plus all of the good ones. How else can we discuss Ministry policy over breakfast or plot our next scheme?"

He smirked, which then shifted into a smile. She thought he might want to kiss her now, maybe drag her off to her room or snuggle on the sofa, but instead he spoke. "Thank you, Hermione. It's… perfect. Now, I see one more present that needs unwrapping." His eyes cut to the tree.

Hermione, astonished, followed his gaze and discovered a package that she hadn't noticed before. "When did that get there?"

He shrugged mysteriously and retrieved it, handing it to her with a grin. "I know you said not to get you anything, but I saw this in a shop, and since it's such a practical item, and the timing is so good, I couldn't resist. I know how much you appreciate practical gifts."

The package was wrapped in simple white paper with a red velvet ribbon. She felt the weight and heft of it, trying to tamp down a wave of disappointment. "It feels like a book."

"You'll have to open it and see."

She bit her lip and slowly began to untie the ribbon. It was fine, a book was fine. Lots of people gave her books; she loved books, after all. They hadn't been together very long, so he probably had no idea what she might like besides books. It was completely fine. She just needed to take deep breaths and mentally prepare herself.

"Are you one of those people who saves the paper to reuse?" He chuckled.

"Sometimes. This ribbon is lovely. Such a bright, vibrant red." She grinned and set the freed ribbon in her lap. She really would keep it. Next came the paper, and she felt a lot better as she unwrapped the package.

When she saw the gift, she gasped, eyes flying wide and darting to him. It was a kind of book, but nothing like what she'd expected. The cover was a very soft leather with a strong cord wrapped around the middle to keep it closed. "What is this?" With trembling hands, she undid the leather clasp and opened the book.

It was a planner—only not like any planner she'd ever seen. The inside had multiple little books attached to the cover by another cord of some kind, though not leather this time.

"It's a special kind of journal." Draco held out his hand and proceeded to show her how it worked. "There are these elastic bands on the spine, and you can change out the inserts. See?" He slowly demonstrated how to remove and then replace one of the small books inside the cover. "I didn't know what you might need for your program, but there's a monthly calendar book, plus one for making lists, one that just has lines, and another that's only blank pages. It's called a Traveler's Journal. I saw a Muggle with one recently and inquired about it. I figured it would be something you'd probably like."

He returned the journal to her, opening the calendar to the month of January. "I, um, hope you don't mind, but I got you started a little."

Hermione looked down and gave a light gasp. A small scrap of parchment was folded on the calendar, but also, on the twentieth of January, the first Malfoy Foundation event was written down. She smiled at him, then opened the parchment to read.

_Hermione,_

_Would you do me the honor of attending the January Malfoy Fundraiser with me?_

_As my date?_

_Just so we're clear, we will arrive together, spend every second together, and leave together. I will then take you home and help you out of your dress. I will think about doing this from the first moment I see you. It will be better than I can imagine._

_Draco_

She laughed out loud, clutching the note to her chest. "Yes, Draco. I'd love to go with you. As your date."

"Good. Now, I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of marking a few other important dates next year." He nodded toward the calendar, encouraging her to keep looking.

Hermione turned the page to February and saw, on Valentine's Day, he'd written: _Date with Draco – will last longer than five minutes._

Again, she laughed, turning the page to March.

He'd written: _Visit Wakehurst. Locate Bartlesby. Pretend to be married._

She smiled now, feeling her eyes get misty.

In April, he'd written: _Fundraiser. Draco will have trouble keeping his hands off me._

For May, he'd planned a date to visit Paris, at the patisserie where she'd gotten the idea to send him macarons for his birthday.

In June, he drew a small constellation on the fifth, his birthday, and a weekend day was marked for a visit to the Malfoy library, with a note that the pale green velvet sofa might see some unorthodox use. Hermione blushed as she flipped to July. Here, he wrote in the next Foundation event, plus: _Dance with Draco. Only Draco._ She remembered that she'd danced with Marcus at the July event this year.

In August, he'd marked off a date for brunch in Hogsmeade. _Draco will behave himself. I will wear a bathrobe and nothing else._ She laughed out loud. "I will not wear a bathrobe to brunch with you!"

He grinned wolfishly. "What if I bring butter pecan ice cream over afterwards?"

She gasped. "Who told you that was my favorite flavor? Was it Pansy?"

"I'll never tell."

Hermione shook her head and turned to September. The first Saturday was marked off for a picnic by the sea.

He pointed to the square for her birthday, where he'd drawn a very large, fancy question mark. "That will be a surprise. But you can clearly see that there's no room for you to schedule anything else."

"What about Harry? He always wants to celebrate birthdays."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I've got it taken care of."

She shook her head, surprised to see one more box in September had been written in. "Three in one month?" The last block read: _Fall asleep in Draco's arms on the green, velvet sofa._ She lightly rubbed her finger over that square. "I would absolutely love that. But I won't be pass-out drunk this time."

In October, he'd drawn a giant heart on the one-year mark of their first _real_ kiss. "We don't have to do anything special for that day, but I didn't want you to forget it. I'm not sure what date you consider the beginning of our relationship."

"This day. Absolutely." She traced the heart with her finger. "It's perfect."

"Even though we didn't really talk that night?"

"Yes. Draco, that was the day I first realized that you felt something for me. It's true that I would later learn just how much, and then we had a lot to discuss, but this was the day I knew that things would never be the same." She kissed him briefly, then went back to her planner. He'd also marked the October Foundation event, which fell very close to the anniversary of their first _real_ kiss.

In November, he drew little hearts in a lot of the boxes, the biggest one on the date of their first time sleeping together. That made her laugh and she pointed to it. "Meant a lot to you, did it?"

Draco groaned. "You have no idea, Hermione. Seems you remember the date, too."

Finally, in December he'd dedicated a weekend day to getting a tree together.

"I hope you don't mind that I wrote in your planner. I realized after I'd started that you might not appreciate it, but if you want a blank copy, I bought an extra one." He pulled a thin book out from the pocket of his cloak and handed it to her.

Hermione shook her head. "I love what you did. Draco, this… might be the most incredible gift I've ever received. Thank you." She placed the journal on the coffee table, took his face in her hands, and kissed him. She hadn't thought too much of it, since his kisses all night had been rather benign, but it wasn't long before she realized he'd merely been waiting until he'd given her the gift.

It quickly became apparent that he had every intention of making yet another memory worthy of acknowledgment in her journal. But before things got too carried away, Hermione stopped.

"Wait. There's something I need to say to you."

His eyes were intense with desire as he stared at her, his fingers pressing into the skin of her waist. He swallowed hard. "What's that?"

"You said something a few weeks ago. That you'd been in love with me for a long time."

He nodded, somewhat impatiently. "I did. I do. I mean, I am."

Hermione put her arms around his neck and looked him in the eye. "Well. I just wanted to say that I quite love you, too." They gazed at each other for a long moment, his hands tensed and ready to spring into action. She could feel the pent up energy in the tips of his fingers. "Please kiss me now."

He didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

**Sunday, 31 DECEMBER**

Ron's wedding to Pansy passed in a blur. Despite Millicent Bulstrode technically being the maid of honor, she lived out of the country, leaving the bulk of the practical duties to fall to Hermione. She didn't mind of course; she had little else to do. But it meant that, on the day of the wedding, she carried the lion's share of the work making sure things went smoothly.

The best part of the morning was waking up in Draco's arms, early enough that they could fully take advantage of the lazy morning. Pansy didn't need Hermione until around ten, so after a long, slow, delicious shag upon first waking, they proceeded to the shower. When she finally kissed him goodbye, she was ready for a nap and a big meal. Alas, the nap was not to be.

Hermione's first task of the day was to head to Pansy's favorite bakery to pick up some snacks. Pansy's home was brightly lit when she arrived, carrying four bags of breakfast pastries and treats, plus a gallon of coffee and a small bag full of sugar packets and various other coffee related necessities.

Everyone in the large estate home seemed frantic beyond measure except Pansy, whom Hermione found soaking in a large, claw-foot tub, bubbles rising up four inches above the water. Pansy's eyes were closed and her head was resting on a pillow on the edge of the tub.

Without looking, Pansy smiled. "Granger! You're here! What did you bring me? And no anxious energy is allowed in this room. It's my haven away from my mother, who is about to drive me mad."

Hermione laughed lightly. "I brought all of your favorite things, as requested in the note you sent me last night."

Pansy hummed, pleased. "Perfect. Millie is still not here and neither is Ginny. Daphne is with my mother, keeping her away from me." She finally opened her eyes and looked at Hermione. "How's Draco this morning?"

"He's fine. He sends his love." Hermione took one pastry after another out of the bag and set them on a table marked 'food' in the sitting room attached to the bathroom. "What's next after your bath?"

Pansy rattled off a list of things as Hermione nibbled on a pastry. She had a feeling she would need it.

**ooo**

The rest of the morning, lunch, and early afternoon were a flurry of activity. Pansy and her bridesmaids were treated to a luxurious series of beauty treatments designed to make them fresh and perfectly ready for the big event. Hermione had never sat through all seven things on Pansy's list, but she was able to relax and enjoy herself despite the fact that facials and manicures weren't usually her kind of thing.

The wedding was to begin at seven, followed by a reception that would last until midnight. The ceremony itself would be somewhat small, but Pansy had invited anyone and everyone who might be slightly acquainted with either her family or Ron's, insisting that a giant party to ring in the New Year was exactly what she wanted to do.

She had told Hermione privately, however, that she and Ron planned to leave as soon as possible to get started on their honeymoon. He was taking her to Courchevel, France, one of the nicest winter destinations in the world. He had saved up to give her the trip of her dreams. "I couldn't talk him out of it, even though it's so expensive. And he wouldn't let me help at all, not a single Knut. It's so romantic. I can't wait!"

"I never would have guessed you'd like a cabin on the top of a mountain for your honeymoon." Hermione gave Pansy a sideways look as she tried not to flinch whenever one of the aestheticians tried to work on her feet.

"Oh, there's so much you don't know about me." Pansy smirked. "But a warm, cozy fire, hot chocolate, and a giant, fluffy rug on the floor sounds absolutely perfect. Not to mention the snow outside the windows, the trees covered with snow… I can't wait! We'll be counting down to midnight together, and there's nothing I would rather have or do."

Hermione smiled. "I'm so glad that Ron makes you so happy, Pansy."

"Me too." Pansy squeezed her arm before turning to say something to Millie.

Ginny, who was on Hermione's other side, let out a sigh. "I can't believe Ron's getting married today. Part of me thought he'd never be able to get himself together in order to make someone else happy, but clearly he's done it."

"Only Charlie remains unattached." Hermione glanced at Daphne, wondering if she knew about Astoria's relationship with him.

"Yeah, that's true, though Mum finally got him to confess that he's bringing a date to the wedding today. So, not only is she beside herself over Ron and Pansy—whom she adores more than I would ever have been able to believe—but she's anxious and nearly frenzied to find out who Charlie's bringing. He hadn't brought a woman home that I can ever remember. I always suspected he liked blokes, but maybe not." Ginny shrugged. "I'm excited to meet her, though. Charlie was one of my favorite brothers when I was very little. He has a great way with kids, and I know he'll make a fabulous dad."

"Do you think it's serious enough to be talking like that?" Hermione was startled. She knew Astoria was crazy about the second-oldest Weasley, but she'd thought they were in the beginnings of a relationship, not yet to the point of talking about their future in all but the loosest of terms.

"Charlie bringing a woman to this is almost equivalent to him getting down on one knee. That's just how he is. I only once met a girl he was dating, and that was purely by accident. So now he's been seeing someone, _and_ he's bringing her 'round to meet the family?" Ginny rapped the table with her fist. "It's got to be serious."

Hermione smiled to herself, remembering how excited Astoria had been when she'd told her about the relationship with Charlie. She couldn't wait to see them together, see the shocked looks on everyone's faces. Not even Draco knew because Hermione had promised she wouldn't tell anyone.

Once all of the beauty preparations were complete, which lasted nearly four hours, it was time to start getting ready. There would be some pictures before the wedding, groupings that didn't require the bride and groom to be in the same room.

When she finally slipped into her dress, Hermione felt incredible. It was made of two different materials: off white lace on top, and soft, pale gold tulle for the skirt. Wisps of lace danced along the low cut of the fitted bodice, which was held up by thin straps. The back dipped low, and the skirt swished and moved like a cloud. It was understated, yet she felt pretty.

When she saw her reflection in the mirror, her stomach swooped as she thought of Draco. She couldn't wait for him to see her, couldn't wait to see the look in his eyes. Hermione wasn't big into spending a lot of time on herself and typically didn't, other than for the weddings she'd been in. She rarely spent much time getting ready for Foundation events, either.

For Foundation events, however, she took care with her appearance, but never to the extent she had endured for Pansy. She was very pleased with the result, nonetheless, and ran her hands down the dress, imagining that Draco would likely do the same later that night. The thought made her shiver, and she needed to stop thinking about him or she'd lose all focus.

Today was about Pansy, and she wasn't about to let herself be too distracted to be a good friend.

Of course, as soon as Pansy saw her, she whistled and said, "Merlin, Granger. Draco isn't going to know what to do with himself until he can get you home."

Hermione blushed but waved her off. "It's a beautiful dress, Pansy. Your choice was perfect."

"I know." Pansy smirked. "Now it's time for pictures."

Finally— _finally_ —the time came for the ceremony to begin. The wedding was much like Muggle weddings, though the magic swirling around the room was certainly different. It was dark outside, and while people filed into their seats, the lights were kept on in the main room. When it came time for the ceremony to begin, however, the lights dimmed.

The officiant, Ethel Parkinson, a great aunt in Pansy's family, motioned for the room to quiet down. "Thank you, one and all, for joining us tonight for this very joyous occasion. The bride and groom ask that everyone who is here to support this union—which should be everyone, by the way—please send a small stream of sparks into the air from your seat." She then proceeded to produce a jet of purple sparks, which rose and began to slowly circle the room high in the air.

The other people at the front with Pansy's great aunt did likewise, and then everyone in their seats did too. Hermione was watching from the back, but she could only see in through a small window in the door. Their lights were off as well, and it was hard for her to see just what was happening.

Ethel then smiled as she gazed over the crowd. "Thank you. We're ready to begin."

With that, what was left of the lights went out, and Ethel nodded to her left. Ron entered through a side door, followed by Harry, then Draco, George, and Percy. As soon as he reached the altar, Ron pulled out his wand and added his own stream of light to the swirling mass in the air. The rest of his attendants did likewise.

Music began then, and it was time for Pansy's bridesmaids to enter the room. Daphne went first, followed by Hermione. She did her best not to gasp when she saw the room. The sparks everyone had cast were swirling lazily above, mingling and mixing, flashing and providing an unearthly ambiance. The sparks looked like stars; the whole effect was like a galaxy spinning slowly through space.

It was breathtaking.

Once she'd recovered slightly, she focused on walking forward. She could feel Draco's eyes on her, and she risked a glance at him. It was hard to make out his exact expression, considering the lighting, but his eyes were fixed on her. She joined Daphne at the front and watched as Ginny and then Millicent began their walk.

All of the lights above them turned to gold as Pansy entered the room. Many people gasped. Hermione looked at Ron, her heart nearly full to bursting to see her friend gazing adoringly at his bride. She knew that, for him, there was nobody else in the room.

Pansy's dress shimmered and sparkled in the twinkling light. Her smile was brilliant, her gaze focused on Ron. Pansy's father walked her to the front, put her hand in Ron's and kissed her cheek.

Hermione didn't pay much attention during the actual ceremony, her gaze turning to Draco every few seconds. He was unabashedly staring at her, and she felt exposed under his gaze, as though everyone in the room must certainly feel the weight of his eyes, the obvious affection behind them. Hermione felt like the most beautiful woman in the room.

Then, before she knew it, Ron and Pansy were kissing, and everyone was cheering. Charlie let out a loud whistle, and Pansy actually blushed. Ron took her hand and they hurried from the room, followed by the rest of the bridal party.

**ooo**

The reception was exactly how Pansy had described it: tables everywhere, lots of food and drink, and dancing. She and Ron opened the dance floor, then others joined in.

When Draco asked Hermione to dance, she accepted, placing her hand in his and letting him lead her. It was a slow song, so he pulled her close against him. It was the first chance they'd had all day to talk.

"You look absolutely beautiful. You took my breath away when I saw you walk through those doors."

Hermione smiled to herself. "Thank you. You're awfully handsome yourself, you know."

"I can't wait to get you back to your flat."

"Is that so?" She hummed lightly. "I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm going to need help with this dress, as well."

He growled softly. " _This_ dress? I think Pansy chose it with me in mind. I don't mean to sound like I think everything she does is for me, but she knows me well, and… Let's just say, I wouldn't be surprised. It's been very hard for me to focus on anything but you tonight."

A thrill of anticipation ran down her spine. "Well, we've got a little bit to get through before we can do that."

"Do you want to stay until midnight?" He nipped at her ear.

"If you keep doing things like that, we won't even make it through the cake."

"Hang the cake." The low timbre of his voice made her shiver. "If you think I care about that more than you, you don't know me that well."

Hermione gave him an amused, startled look. "But I thought you _loved_ cake."

He laughed. "That's fair. You're quite right. But compared to you, it's absolutely nothing. Now, if we could bring some of the cake _with_ us…"

"I think that could be arranged. But to answer your question, I think I prefer Pansy's plan of being away from here at midnight." As much as she enjoyed getting all dressed up and being with her friends, she preferred the thought of being at home with Draco when the new year arrived. This year would be nothing like the year before. This year, she would get to kiss Draco at midnight.

Draco glanced around. "You said Pansy's leaving early?"

Hermione nodded. "I'm not sure when, though."

"Let's keep an eye out. We'll stay half an hour after they leave."

"Alright." She gave him a quick kiss and squeezed his hand. "I'll see if I can find her and get an idea of what they're thinking."

Draco smiled. "Good. I'm ready to be home."

Her heart leapt at the way he said that last word. _Home_. She had a feeling he wasn't referring to her flat, either.

**ooo**

Later— _much_ later—Hermione was exactly where she'd wanted to be. She and Draco were sitting on her sofa before a warm fire, his arm around her and her legs tucked up under her. She rested her head on his shoulder, a cup of hot chocolate in hand.

The clock said there were ten minutes to midnight. Neither of them said anything, both exhausted from the day and their activities since leaving the reception—Draco had more than adequately kept his promises about her dress. Now, she was content to sit beside him and listen to the fire crackle and pop.

Deep in his own thoughts, Draco kissed her temple. "Are you going to make any resolutions for the new year?"

Hermione hummed. "You know, this past year, I had this ridiculous notion that if I cleared my calendar of things I didn't truly want to do, I would have all this extra time in which to find someone special. That was my goal, you know. Ultimately. I felt like my life needed someone in it, and then I'd be perfectly happy."

"I remember." His tone was soft, almost a whisper. "I had hoped you would see me."

"I had it all wrong, though. I couldn't truly see you until I sorted through my mistakes."

"What mistakes were those?"

"Thinking that all I needed to do was make the time and love would naturally fall into place. Don't get me wrong, I am completely thrilled with how my experiment went. I discovered that you can't force things to happen. And my job, once all the noisy extras were removed, meaning all the outside activities with coworkers, was extremely dissatisfying. I found that working with the Foundation was far more fulfilling, and it seems that we truly helped people, which is what really refreshed my spirit." She paused and smiled at the memory of Tabitha on stage with Draco.

"The mistake was in thinking that if I did certain things, put myself in certain situations, I would find someone." Hermione looked at him. "It wasn't until I stopped trying so hard that I realized what had been there all along. Of course, it still took a bloody long time to actually talk to each other about it."

Draco chuckled and kissed her lightly, his eyes intense. "We were both a bit thick."

"I wish you'd have asked me out ages ago."

"You would have said no. I'm convinced of it. Remember last year? You were so focused on a project involving the Vampires you barely had time to eat, much less think about dating."

She thought back to the time around her birthday last year and grimaced. "That consumed me. And what good did it do me?" She scoffed. "All I got for my troubles was a hurried 'nice job, here's the next case.' It's no wonder I was near a breaking point by the year's end."

"No new resolutions then?" He glanced at the clock. "You've only got four minutes to decide."

She knew he was teasing her, but Hermione really considered it. "Last year, my goal was to only spend my time in ways that left a positive mark on my life—other than work, of course—with an aim toward finding someone special. I ended up learning so much about myself, what my priorities are, what truly brings me joy. And, I found someone special, though it didn't go how I imagined it would."

He grinned. "You thought you'd meet some good looking stranger who would sweep you off your feet?"

Hermione rested her head on his shoulder again and took his free hand in hers. "Instead I got my good looking best friend to do it."

"Have I swept you off your feet?"

She sighed. "I don't really love that saying, but it's safe to say that you have. You did that back in October. Multiple times. Then again last month, and every day since. But—" She only had a minute left. "My resolution for next year is to keep doing what brings me joy. To continue what I started this year and stay focused on what really matters."

Draco smirked. "You know, that's not a measurable goal. You need action steps and a—"

Hermione silenced him with a kiss as the clock struck midnight.

* * *

**THE END**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINAL NOTE: Thank you so much to everyone who followed this story this year. WHAT A CRAZY YEAR! 2020 was insane, and this story helped ground me, keep me focused. Gave me something ELSE to think about. I appreciate every single review I received. I cannot thank you enough for the encouragement I received along the way. I don't like posting a story that I haven't fully written beforehand, but I took a risk with this. And I'm so glad I did. Thanks to dormiensa, who beta'd each and every chapter for me!
> 
> FINAL NOTE for K: I cannot say enough thanks to my dear friend, dreamsofdramione, who was with me every single step of the way on this story. She might know this story better than me. I'm not even kidding. K, I dedicate this story to you. We birthed this thing together. You know I don't do mushy gushy, but this story wouldn't exist without you, I wouldn't be here, and so, so many things wouldn't have happened this year. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. Thank you for walking through this story, this WHOLE YEAR, with me. Thank you for the hours of chatting, plotting, planning, brainstorming, and-oh yeah, actual beta work! The chapters got longer as the months went on, and you never failed to come through. There aren't words to express my gratitude. Thank you for the graphics every month! It was so fun to pick something from each chapter to highlight. And they're all incredible. I can't wait to see this in a book format, with your graphics at the start of each chapter. Because yes, that's happening. AND, last but not least, thanks for my incredible gift of [ART from Avendell!](https://avendell.tumblr.com/post/638846937029902336/commissioned-by-dreamsofdramione-and-inadaze22) You and inadaze22 outdid yourselves and I'm in awe of the art. Thank you for making this a year I will never forget. I can't wait to see what we do next!

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING!


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